Reaver's Servants
by Luna Peachie
Summary: <html><head></head>In desperate need of new servants upon his return to Lakeview Manor, Reaver reluctantly hires a small group of former circus performers when only they show up to apply for the jobs. Reaver soon discovers that though he may be the boss, his new hires pretty much run things in their own weird, yet somehow efficient, manner.</html>
1. Inquire Within

_Reaver's Servants_

Inquire Within

The interior of the elegant manor was in complete shambles. The remains from a wild party adorned every banister, statue, and piece of furniture. The lavish halls of Lakeview Manor had been empty for some time; save for the occasional guard sent in to make sure nothing had been stolen. There were slight blood stains here and there, but nothing worse for wear. The manor was completely silent, save for the tapping sound of a walking stick.

The elegantly dressed man stepped in time with his cane, holding an odd looking statue in the other hand. It took some heavy persuasion and an unmentioned amount of gold, but the man had his prize and if the rumors were correct about this statue, all it needed was the right angle and some patience.

This man was lord of this manor. He had been away for some time on specific "errands" needed attending to. A year and a half, at most, had passed since that fateful party and now this man had one thing in mind. He made his way to the walkway and stared down at the mess that was once his most trusted servant. The man sighed, not looking forward to what must be done. But this seemed like the only logical solution in his mind.

"He is the only one who knows how I like my tea!" The man argued with himself on the way to the manor from purchasing the statue. The statue was shaped like a balverine and it had quite a story behind it; not that he was paying attention to the person who loaned it to him. He could barely keep his lunch down as he held the statue up. A beam of light charged up and emitted from the balverine shape. Before too long, it had zapped the bloody mess back to life.

The elegant man could hear groans and deep breathes of life coming from the newly regenerated manservant. "_Se lever maintenant_." the man whispered, as he nudged the waking servant with his foot.

"Get up, you worthless sack of flesh!" yelled the elegantly dressed man at the red haired man on the floor. Feeling as if he had just lost a bar fight with a drunken soldier, the red-haired man stood up and balanced himself properly against a nearby statue. "It's about damn time; we have a lot of cleaning to do. And by 'we' I mean you and the other servants." The man yelled again.

Barry rubbed the side of his head and regained his eye sight. Was he alive? Barry felt his body for a moment and then looked around with a confused gaze. It felt like he had just woken up from a long nap, though he didn't feel very refreshed. "That must have been some party." He murmured as he straightened his tattered uniform. Barry had a very prominent accent only made more apparent with his speech impediment. The elegantly dressed man, his boss Reaver, seemed to have calmed down a bit. Barry noticed Reaver was holding a small white statue of a balverine. "Who…what happened?" asked Barry, as he looked around the now empty room.

The "guests" were long gone and it was only the two men. "The soiree took a turn for the…shall we say, wild side. You barely survived the experience. I rented this lovely piece of…well I guess it qualifies as art, so I could revive you. If you think I'm going to let years of training get mauled to pieces, then my good man, that balverine knocked some of your brains out." commented Reaver, setting the statue down on a nearby table. Barry felt a twinge of happiness in his chest. "By the way, the cost to rent that statue is coming out of your pay."

Reaver was nice enough to tell Barry what has happened in the time he had been "indisposed". Not much had actually happened, except a few escaped rebels, a new monarch, and a now filthy home. After he had changed from his tattered uniform, Barry got started cleaning right away; though his state of temporary "near-death" kept him from going at a favorable pace.

As Barry swept the grand dining room of the mansion, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness (and not the usual kind of "loneliness" either). Reaver entered the room and looked around. "I may have been gone a long while, but didn't I have more servants?" he asked, walking toward a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of sherry and two glasses. Barry looked around and leaned against his broom. Reaver sat in one of the chairs in front of the dining room table and reclined.

"I believe the balverines attacking everything that moved served as a two weeks' notice, Master Reaver." retorted Barry, with his speech impediment.

Reaver, pouring some sherry into a glass, hated the mess in his home. Of course, he hated his staff too (with the exception of Barry, for reasons that make even Reaver blush). "I guess it was time to hire new staff anyway, Hatch." Barry went back to his sweeping, but knew the effort into sweeping up the party's mess was fruitless.

"Hatch, what's the damage report?" Reaver asked, placing the glass to his lips.

"Well, after a quick examination of the rest of the manor, everything is either destroyed, toppled over, or has undergarments hanging off of it." Reaver waved his hand over the chair next to him and Barry sat down next to Reaver. Reaver poured him a glass as well and pushed it toward him. Reaver and Barry had a very friendly relationship as far as Master and servant status went. Reaver usually didn't do anything unless he asked for Barry's advice first. Whether or not the advice was followed was a different story. "I also saw evidence of a few small fires. But as far as I can tell, everyone is gone. The servant's hallway is void of any life."

Sipping his drink, Reaver looked around the dining hall. "Well, Hatch, it seems you'll be acting as maid, grounds keeper, and chef until we hire some new people. I want you to make up some want ads and post them in Bowerstone. I want this house up and running again before the week is out! I suggest you get started on the want ad immediately. That, and dinner; I'm famished." Reaver was pretty snide for a man who had one servant and a messy home.

"Cook? You want me to cook? I can't cook! I can barely boil water." remarked Barry, playing with the glass of sherry.

"Well, you don't expect me to make my own meals, do you? Why, I haven't done that in…" Reaver paused for a moment and pondered. Putting his index finger to his chin, Reaver glared at the table for a few minutes and pondered this slight challenge. "…has it really been that long?" he asked himself. Cocking an eyebrow, Barry sipped his sherry slowly. "This is truly pathetic, on both our parts." Reaver sighed, with a depressed look.

Barry sighed and stood up. "Maybe I can whip us up some sandwiches…I'm sure that mutton I saw in the kitchen earlier hasn't gone bad yet…" he said, dejected, as he walked toward the kitchen.

"No mayo on mine!" yelled Reaver.

Later in the evening, Barry sat at his small desk in his room (next to Reaver's and one of the only rooms that hadn't been ransacked after the party) and tapped the paper he placed in front of him. Barry wrote and rewrote the want ad that was to be taken to the city. Barry had many talents (most he kept secret, as Reaver was quick to point out flaws and laugh at them), but writing was not one of them. While this hardly counted as great poetry, Barry knew the right wording was key when looking for anyone foolish or desperate enough to work for Reaver. One or the other was fine with Barry.

Barry wrote down a very detailed list of requirements but stopped mid-sentence. "I don't want to be outshined, not taking that risk again." He muttered to himself, as he crumpled up another piece of paper. Barry didn't want to risk losing his job to some overachieving kiss-up again. "And I shouldn't put too much, most of the people can't read very well." He crumpled up another piece of paper. "Short, sweet, to the point! That should do it."

The next day, feeling satisfied with his writing abilities, Barry had multiple copies of his ad made. He carried his bundle of papers to the bulletin board in the marketplace and posted one. As he walked away, Barry passed by a group of people that seemed to be in a hurry. He didn't glance at them, but their presence gave him a feeling of calm dread as he walked by.

The group walked up to the bulletin board; it would seem this was not their first time visiting it. This small group had been down on their luck for a while. Though in Bowerstone it was hard to generate sympathy, especially considering how oddly they were dressed. In truth, they were once circus performers. Though by their clothing, it seemed obvious. Their clothes were made from patched together pieces of old carnival costumes made to resemble regular clothing to the best of the sewer's abilities.

"What does it say, Miss Sarah?" asked the short young woman, trying to see over the gentleman standing in front of her.

The woman leading them, Miss Sarah (the magician's assistant), walked up to the bulletin board and read aloud:

"_To anyone interested,_

_Reaver of Reaver Industries will be holding interviews for jobs in and around his home by Bower Lake._

_In need are the following positions: maids, butlers, grounds keepers, chefs._

_No experience needed, but recommended._

_If hired, employees will be paid generously and provided with room and board._

_Please see Barry Hatch at Lakeview Manor in Millfields for more details._

_Be advised: Those not hired may be shot."_

Everyone in the group shifted their heads as Miss Sarah turned around. "Well, it's the only job posting at the moment, and we do need jobs." She reasoned. Her little group, however, didn't look so sure. They needed jobs badly, but no one looked eager to look into what the flyer was offering. Miss Sarah tried her best to put on a brave face. "Now, now, everyone; we've taken serving jobs before. This would be a little more personal than slinging ale or waiting tables." She reasoned to her unsure friends.

One of them, a tall, dark haired woman named Rosie (the fortune teller), was the first to object. "Miss Sarah, you've heard the rumors about that guy. He's not exactly an ideal employer from what I hear. I heard he once tried to pay his employees with rice. And not good rice, either."

"Rosie's right." said the man, whose name was Gordon (the acrobat and trapeze artist). "I heard he had a man executed for standing up for one of those kids in his factory." Gordon usually wasn't one to believe rumors, but seeing as this rumor was true, he made an exception. "I know we need jobs, but I'm sure we can wait a little longer for another posting."

The short one, Willa (the strong man's daughter; she was in training before they left), looked up at the bi-speckled woman beside her. Beryl (the contortionist), behind her thick glasses, placed her index finger on her chin and sighed. "But we've come back here every day for the last week. All the other jobs are filled up; even the factory jobs." She said, as he readjusted her glasses.

"And we're running out of money." added Willa. "Soon, we won't have enough to buy food or to keep staying at the Inn. He's providing room and board, and generous pay."

"Generous pay could mean we wake up in the morning without a bullet hole in our heads." retorted Gordon, playing with the peach fuzz accumulating on his chin. "There has to be something else!"

Rosie stepped forward and shifted through the flyers on the board. "Nothing here except product advertisements and army recruitment sign-up sheets." She said, in her half-hearted way of speaking.

Miss Sarah looked at them, hope leaving her face slowly too. She could see the defeated looks on their faces because she felt it too. Not one to give up on hope, Miss Sarah put on her sunniest smile and faced her friends. "Look, you guys. I understand things have been a little tough since we…left the circus, but this could be a new start for us. We agreed to give something else a shot, and we agreed not to let anything separate us. This could be it. If we make it working for this Reaver guy, we can make it anywhere."

Already looking defeated, the small group sighed and looked at each other. It would appear that they had no other choice. And seeing as they were the first to see the ad, they would have a better chance at landing the jobs.

Gordon sighed and looked at Miss Sarah. "Well, I have been told I have a green thumb." He said with a half-hearted smile.

"I can clean pretty fast." added Willa.

"Me too!" shouted Beryl happily.

Rosie nodded with the other two girls and looked at Miss Sarah. "Miss Sarah, you're an excellent cook. You've made delicious meals out of only travel jerky and howling cheese."

Miss Sarah blushed at the compliment. With newfound confidence, the group looked toward Miss Sarah with renewed vigor. "Well then, it's decided. We'll apply right away!" shouted Miss Sarah, happily, as she grabbed the flyer off the bulletin board. "Come on, you guys. Let's go get cleaned up."

_A few days later…_

The early evening rolled around, with the setting sun reflecting off the lake. The crows were sounding off as noble children ran along the path with their fancy clothes now messy with mud, carrying fishing poles and pails, containing small fish. Miss Sarah smiled warmly as the children ran past the group.

Holding the flyer in her right hand and a lukewarm casserole dish in the other, Miss Sarah led the group through Millfields, the rich part of town by the lake. _I hope the positions haven't been filled yet_ Miss Sarah thought, clutching the flyer.

"What's in the dish?" asked Rosie, as they rounded another turn.

"Well, I figured if I'm going for that chef's job, I might as well provide a sample of my work." replied Sarah.

"What did you make?" asked Willa.

"Well, the truth…it's my ravioli specialty…" answered Sarah, feeling somewhat ashamed.

The entire group stopped and stared at her. "You made ravioli? But Miss Sarah, the ingredients are so expensive! We barely had enough to buy cheap bread!" shouted Beryl.

"I know, but we need these jobs, so I pulled out all the stops." Miss Sarah pulled back the covering on the dish, revealing the tasty little morsels. The smell was heavenly. It smelled like no expense was spared and no time was wasted.

Rosie looked sternly at Miss Sarah. "If your specialty doesn't get us the jobs, then we're completely hopeless." She half-heartedly joked.

Walking among the path, the group stared in amazement at the beautiful lake, big houses, and the history steeped in the hills. At the end of the path, a guard directed them toward Reaver's manor, which sat directly on the lake.

Standing on the steps of the manor, each one of them felt insignificant. Each one of them was also having second thoughts, including Miss Sarah. While the others admired the big statue of Reaver, Sarah knocked the door knocker. Nothing. Thinking (or at least hoping) no one was home, the group started to turn around. They stopped when they heard the door creak open.

The door opened further to reveal an orange haired man who looked a bit ragged and exhausted. "I hope you're not selling anything or preaching about the end of the world, because I'm sick of telling you people that Reaver shoots on sight." said the man, with an obvious speech impediment. This man, Barry, looked among the small crowd that gathered outside the manor. The first thing he noticed was that it was mostly women. "Ooh…girl scouts…" he muttered.

He looked down at Willa (who, despite being nineteen, was unusually short) and glared at her. "Sweetheart, I should warn you, Master Reaver has shot many girl scouts. Being adorable and having bodyguards won't stop him. We're still in litigation with the parents of the last one." He commented, as he started shutting the door.

With an angry huff, Willa grabbed the door and swung it open all the way, her strength scaring Barry. "We're not girl scouts, you dope! We're here about the jobs you advertised earlier this week!"

Miss Sarah finally stepped forward and grabbed Willa out of the way. "Please excuse her." She laughed, nervously, pushing Willa towards Rosie. "We're here about the jobs posted earlier this week. Is it too late to set up an interview?"

Barry blinked a few times looking at Miss Sarah. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen. She was of regular build, had dull brown hair, and fair skin. She wasn't a stunning beauty, but she was pretty. With a blush, Barry invited the group in. "Oh, my apologies. Of course, the positions are still open."

Looking down at Willa (who came to about his chest) Barry smiled nervously. "Sorry about the girl scout comment, Miss. Those damn girl scouts are getting more daring by the day. The other day I found one scaling the manor walls trying to get into Master Reaver's office."

Barry took out a clipboard and starting jotting things down. They stopped just outside an oak doorway. "Alright, Master Reaver asked me to take down the names of anyone applying. So, names and positions applying for, please." Barry took down their names on his clipboard, but couldn't help but look up every so often at their clothes. "Forgive me for asking, but why do your clothes look so…colorful?" he asked.

Sarah smiled, and answered for them. "Well, you see…we had to make do with what we had. We all used to work for a circus, and when it was shut down, most of our things were sold off to pay the circus leader's debts. We literally only had the clothes on our backs."

Blushing, Barry extended his hand to Miss Sarah. "Ahh, former circus performers? Well, not everyone has a clean past, ehh? It's alright, considering who I work for, I'm in no position to judge. You may have assumed already, I am Barry Hatch, Reaver's personal assistant and attendant. You said your name was…Sarah?" he said, looking at his clipboard.

Miss Sarah nodded and shook Barry's hand. It felt clammy and rough, like he had been scrubbing floors.

He motioned for the group to follow him, which they did. The massive home was spotless, thanks in part the Barry's nonstop efforts to clean up. He mostly brushed things under rugs or other furniture, which Rosie, Willa and Beryl noticed. Going up the stairs, they made their way past the dining hall and toward another hall.

"So, you all here together or did you all hear about the openings separately?" asked Barry, as he opened another door.

"We're here together." said Miss Sarah, clutching her casserole dish tightly. "We're kind of a family; we take care of each other."

Standing outside an oak doorway, Barry bowed to Miss Sarah. "Madam, if you and your associates could wait here for a moment, I will see if Master Reaver is available."

Left alone in the hallway, the group nervously wondered if this was worth it. Rosie chuckled a bit. "What's so funny?" asked Miss Sarah.

"We're here not even ten minutes and you pretty much already have the job." answered Rosie, in between chuckles.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Miss Sarah sternly.

"You'd have to be blind to not see you and that Mr. Hatch guy were flirting with each other." retorted Rosie, covering her chuckles with her hand. Miss Sarah blushed as Rosie smiled deviously. Rosie didn't smile much. "He's not much of a looker, but considering who you used to date…"

"That's enough out of you." snapped Miss Sarah. Rosie kept her devilish smile and the rest of her dirty thoughts to herself.

Beryl, noticeably nervous, shook as the grandness of the manor dawned upon them. "This won't work, this won't work!" she kept repeating. "This was a terrible idea! I say we steal what we can and run for it!" she said as she hyperventilated. Gordon grabbed her shoulders and took deep breaths with her.

"Stay calm, Beryl!" he shouted in between breathes.

"_Ceci ne travaillera pas! Nous ne travaillerons jamais ici! Nous n'appartenons pas ici!"_ screamed Beryl. It was happening again.

"We will get these jobs! Just stay calm!" Gordon shook Beryl, who quickly regained her composure.

"Oh my…did I start speaking another language again?" she asked, as she straightened her glasses.

Inside the room, which was Reaver's office, Barry bowed with the announcement. "Good news, Master Reaver. We have some applicants." He announced, happily.

"Well, it's about time. I was starting to get worried that I'd actually have to start doing things myself around here." smiled Reaver, from behind his desk. "Have them form a straight line and send in the prettiest ones in first." said Reaver, straightening his vest. Barry looked nervously at Reaver.

Barry cleared his throat nervously and thumped his clipboard softly. "Well, sir, there aren't that many applicants…"

Reaver cocked his eyebrow at his attendant. "Not that many…pretty applicants?" he asked.

"Well…" Barry blushed, thinking about Miss Sarah. "…not many applicants...period."

"What do you mean 'period'?" asked Reaver, who became noticeably angry.

Barry tugged at his sleeve nervously. "Well, one of them is quite pretty…" he said with a blush. "The other four are…well, I guess the tall dark haired one is cute…"

"OTHER FOUR?!" yelled Reaver, slamming his hands on his desk. "Are you telling me only five people showed up? How the hell am I going to run this home with only five servants, six if I count you? Next thing you're going to tell me is that they used to work for the circus!" Not really expecting an answer from Barry, Reaver stood up and leaned against his desk, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. "They are former circus performers, aren't they?" Still not expecting an answer, Reaver sighed as Barry nodded. "Well, might as well get this disaster out of the way." He snorted.

"I blame you for this, by the way." Reaver added, as he walked toward the doorway.

Opening the doors wide, Reaver could already tell the applicants were promising. They were arguing and panicking amongst themselves. _Oh yes, this will go smoothly_ he thought sarcastically to himself. He looked upon the small group with disdain. One was hyperventilating, another was short, one was pale and looked bored, but at least the other two were decent looking.

They noticed Reaver and immediately turned in attention. _Quick to act, that's a good start_ he thought, looking among the little group. "Alright, my dears; you know me, I am Reaver, and if everything goes smoothly, hopefully I will be your new employer. So, let us get interviews underway, shall we?" he smiled a devilish smile. "When I point to you, step forward and tell me your name, along with what position you are applying for."

Reaver stroked his chin and looked among the small group. "So, who wishes to go first?" he asked, as he directed his index finger among the line-up. He pointed to Gordon. "You, step forward, and tell me your name." Gordon stepped forward, but Reaver stopped him. "Slowly, if you please." Gordon nodded and stepped back. He stepped forward again, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. Reaver moaned lustfully and bit the tip of his gloved finger. "Name and what you're applying for."

"Gordon, Sir. I am applying for the grounds keeping job." said Gordon, nervously.

Reaver eyed Gordon up and down, imagining him pruning plants in the hot summer. "Oh yes...I am in dire need of a grounds keeper. The last one left such an awful mess." replied Reaver.

Willa looked at Barry, who was standing next to the group now. "The yard looked fine from what we saw. This man must have high expectations." She whispered.

Barry looked down at Willa. "Oh, he does, but he wasn't talking about the yard. It took me hours to get that blood stain out of the carpet." He commented back, nonchalantly. Willa turned back toward the group and shook nervously.

"What do you believe qualifies you for that position?" Reaver asked. Gordon swallowed hard and watched as Reaver undressed him with his eyes. As Gordon explained his qualifications (whether or not Reaver was listening, was another matter), Barry slowly stepped over to Miss Sarah, who patiently waited for her turn. She looked over at him and smiled with a blush, which Barry happily returned.

"Since I am in need of a grounds keeper, I'll start you out on a trial period. Until I see what you can do, you'll also be acting as a butler. It doesn't mean double pay, by any means. It just means you and I…get to spend a good deal of time together." With a devilish smile, Reaver winked to Gordon, who bowed graciously and stepped off to the side, somewhat confused.

"Alright, who's next?" Reaver pointed to Rosie, who stood straight as a broom. Rosie stepped forward. "So, my lovely, what do they call you?" Reaver asked.

Rosie's expression didn't change much. She always had a bored expression and dead-pan tone. One thing Reaver noticed about Rosie was that she was almost as tall as he was. At 5'8", Rosie was tall and buxom. Almost Amazonian, Reaver figured. "My name is Rosie." She said, finally.

_The name certainly fits the personality well, doesn't it?_ Reaver thought.

Rosie's gaze seemed to pierce Reaver's very soul (if he indeed still had one). "I, along with Beryl and Willa, will be applying for the maid positions." Reaver looked over at the other two, who started stepping forward.

"Aww, how adorable." Reaver chortled, as Willa stepped forward with Beryl. "Why hello there, you cute little darling. Are you here to help your big sisters?" he cooed, patting Willa on the head. Willa fumed as he stood back up straight.

Puffing up her cheeks, Willa let out a big puff of air. "My name is Willa, I'm nineteen, and I'm here applying for one of the maid positions." Willa sounded off, trying to make herself look taller.

Looking quite embarrassed, Reaver walked over to Beryl, who was shaking. Cocking an eyebrow, Reaver turned his head and waved his hand in front of Beryl's face. "You can see out of those bottle bottoms, right?" he said, his voice a little higher.

"_Je ne suis pas sourd, Monsieur_." muttered Beryl, nervously. Beryl covered her mouth.

Reaver stared at her. Rosie, with a worried expression, stepped in front of Beryl. "Please excuse her, Sir. When she gets nervous, she tends to lapse into different languages." Reaver moved Rosie out of the way slowly and stared Beryl down, which made her shake more.

Reaver cleared his throat and looked Beryl in the eyes (or glasses, rather).

"_Pourquoi pensez-vous que vous devriez avoir ce travail_?" asked Reaver, leaning against his cane.

Beryl blinked a few times and stood up straight. "_Mon nom est du Beryl, Monsieur. Je suis un travailleur très dur, Monsieur. Je suis rapide, à l'heure, et je suis des ordres très bien_." replied Beryl.

Reaver clapped his gloved hands. "Impressive. I can see my years of studying languages will not go to waste should you decide to hyperventilate again." He tapped his cane against the floor and walked toward Willa. Beryl almost fainted. Reaver smiled as he knelt down to Willa. Willa looked nervous. Of course, compared to Reaver (hat included), Willa had never felt shorter. "Alright, Little Bit. Enlighten me; why I should employ you as a maid, and not as a foot stool?"

Willa puffed up and tried to make herself look taller. "I am an expert cleaner!" she announced. "I may be short, but I can clean really fast!" she took a deep breath. "I can clean a room in less than five minutes but my personal best is three."

Reaver laughed loudly, not just at Willa, but at her statement. "_Ma petite femme_, it takes an hour just to clean my bedroom, and that's if you clean like Barry." His chuckles came to a slow stop. "Alright, Little Bit. I like your spunk, so I'll give you three a shot." The first four stood off to the side as Reaver walked up to Miss Sarah. "Well, well, my delicious little crumpet, it appears you are the last applicant. Am I to assume you've come after the chef's job?" he asked, as he circled Miss Sarah like a hawk.

Miss Sarah swallowed hard (which Reaver, ever the dirty thinker, noticed and smirked at) and presented her dish. "Mr. Reaver, my name is Sarah, and I would be honored if you would hire me and my friends to be your servants." Miss Sarah said, modestly as she bowed. Reaver enjoyed it when people practically begged him for something, be it a job or their lives. "To show you I am qualified, I prepared my specialty."

Miss Sarah placed the casserole dish on a nearby table and reached into her pocket. Taking out a cloth napkin, she unwrapped a shiny clean fork and presented it to Reaver, half bowing to him. After inspecting the fork, Reaver watched as Miss Sarah slowly uncovered the dish. "It's a ravioli recipe that's been in my family for generations. I only make it every so often, as the ingredients are expensive and making the noodles is an all-day endeavor."

Miss Sarah and her companions, waiting in anticipation (and hunger, at the sight of such delicious food), watched in awe as Reaver stuck the fork slowly into the dish and brought one morsel to his lips. He slowly popped the sauce covered morsel in his mouth and chewed slowly.

Within a few bites, Reaver's eyes widened and he gasped. He looked as if he was in a trance. Barry looked worried and waved his hand in front of his boss's face. "Master?" he asked.

Reaver began to quiver. The look in his eyes was one of serene enlightenment. One could almost hear angels singing around Reaver. "It is…" his voice quivered with sheer joy. "…that has to be the most delicious thing I have ever tasted…" he said, as the arpeggio of flavors swirled around his taste buds like a fine wine. He couldn't comprehend the feeling he was feeling. Never had he tasted something so good.

He placed the fork down and Miss Sarah offered him the napkin as he regained composure, which he took and wiped his mouth with. "I know a multitude of recipes, and whatever I don't know, I can learn." stated Miss Sarah, as she bowed again.

Reaver swallowed what was in his mouth and looked at Miss Sarah. "Congratulations, the job is yours." He said happily as he watched her recover the casserole dish.

The group rejoined each other and stood in a straight line. Like a general addressing his soldiers, Reaver paced in from of the group. "Alright, since you are the only applicants to actually show up, the jobs are yours. However, consider the next few weeks a trial period. If you can last a month here, you are either really good at your job, or just damn lucky. Either way, I expect everything in my home to be organized, done in a timely manner, and done to my specifications."

He stopped and turned to Barry. "Show them to the servant's hallway and get them settled in." Reaver instructed, as he walked back toward his office (casserole dish in hand). "You all start first thing in the morning, so get a good night's sleep."

Barry led the group toward the main part of the house. Passing through the dining hall and to the opposite side, Barry opened the door and stopped at another door, opening it. "This is the servant's hallway. Beyond this door are some rooms for you. We usually have more than five servants, so there are plenty of rooms. Just pick the ones you like." He said, pointing among the doors.

"Which one is your room, Mr. Hatch?" asked Miss Sarah, looking around the hallway.

"My room is next to Master Reaver's, in case he needs me." Barry said, matter-of-factly. "In each of the closets, you'll find uniforms. Try not to get them too dirty." He added, as the group dispersed among the doors. Each one found picked a room, except Miss Sarah, who stood beside Barry a little while longer. Barry cleared his throat and turned to her. "I'd offer to help you get settled in, but it seems you have no bags, Miss Sarah."

Blushing bright red, Miss Sarah nodded softly. "Well, we came back from a performance in the city one day and all of our things were gone. We were still in our costumes. I was able to sew some half-way decent looking clothes out of our costumes and bits and pieces of fabric I came across."

"You're quite talented, Miss Sarah." He said, as he followed her to one of the doors. As she opened the door, Barry reached into his pocket and took out a folded up piece of paper. "Before I forget; Master Reaver wanted me to give this to you. It's a schedule. I guess he figured you were the brains behind the operation."

Miss Sarah took it slowly and looked it over. Nodding, she folded it back up and placed it in her pocket. "I will go over it with the others as soon as we get settled in."

Barry nodded and smiled, with a blush. "I'm glad to have some help around here, again. I got a good feeling about you and your friends, Miss Sarah." He said, as he started walking away.

The rooms weren't very impressive. Miss Sarah's room was small, with a bed, a small dresser, a closet, and a cabinet. She assumed (and she would be right) that the other servant's quarters were exactly the same. "Well, what can you do? It is free, after all." Miss Sarah sighed, as she opened the small closet door; hanging inside, was a maid's outfit. She decided to try it on, but stopped when a knock came at her door.

She opened it and saw Barry, again, holding a box. "I forgot to inform you, Miss Sarah; as the cook, your uniform is a bit different than the others." He said, handing her the box. "I had to dig it out of a closet, but it should fit. Most of the maid uniforms are one size fits all. Though, you might need to help your…vertically challenged friend a bit."

He was right, as not even a few seconds after his statement, Willa walked out of her room, looking like a child trying on her mother's clothes. "Miss Sarah…" she whined, as she walked toward them. Barry covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. Miss Sarah giggled softly as Barry left the servant's hallway.

After finding a sewing kit later that night, Miss Sarah sat on her bed, adjusting Willa's maid outfit. Willa, in her undergarments, sat in a nearby chair and watched. "Miss Sarah, do you think I'll ever get taller?" she asked, rocking in the chair.

"Well, your dad was tall from what I remember, so you should be in for a growth spurt eventually." Miss Sarah's concentration was stone-like, and she didn't prick herself once on the needles. "It's really hard to do this without a dummy." She mumbled. Willa and Miss Sarah turned their heads as the door to the bedroom opened, revealing the rest of their group.

"There you two are!" said Beryl, happily. "Rosie and Gordon just did a quick tour of the manor."

Rosie smiled and sat next to Miss Sarah on the bed. "Our rooms are alike, that's reassuring." She commented, dryly.

"What's the rest of the house like?" asked Willa, rocking slowly in the chair as Beryl stood next to her.

"It's a shrine to himself." said Gordon, closing the door. "Red seems to be a reoccurring theme in this house, with gold trim, apparently. Not sure why he put the dining room on the second floor, but they say when you're rich you're eccentric, and when you're poor you're crazy. The door at the far end of the dining room is locked, so it's probably just a closet or something. But what struck out to me is his taste in art. I have never seen so many portraits of one person. And we thought our old ringleader was a self-serving ass…"

"Don't speak so ill of Mr. Reaver." warned Miss Sarah, as she finished the last stitching on the outfit. "He didn't have to give us jobs. He could have turned us away…or worse! He may not be the ideal employer, and he has a very uncouth manner about him, but we should be thankful he gave us jobs instead of…well, I don't think I have to mention it." Miss Sarah gave the uniform to Willa to try on. "Besides, we should be lucky. Most folks can't find steady work, let alone free room and board along with it." Miss Sarah watched Willa fumble about with her uniform. "How does it fit, Willa?"

Slipping the uniform on, Willa smiled and played with it a bit. "It's a little tight around the bust…"

Gordon snickered a bit. "Does it really matter for you, Willa?" he laughed. Willa huffed and took her uniform back off.

"Don't tease Willa." said Miss Sarah, as she put the sewing kit away.

Gordon chuckled and reached into his coat. "She knows I'm only picking at her. Besides, she won't be mad for long once she sees what me and Rosie got." Gordon pulled a bottle of something alcoholic from his coat, smiled wide and placed some glasses on the small dresser. "I think this calls for a celebration!" he announced, opening the bottle.

"Where did you get that? You didn't steal it, did you?" asked Miss Sarah, sternly.

"No, it was in my dresser. Odd, don't you think?" he laughed, as he poured the shiny brown liquid into the glasses. "The cups I did take from the kitchen, though."

Rosie picked up her glass and smiled. "I helped him look. You're in for a treat, Miss Sarah. It's a nice kitchen; very big and clean too, with big ovens and lots of work space! And it looks like it's been stocked recently with all kinds of goodies." She commented, as she raised her glass with everyone else.

"Care to lead the toast, Miss Sarah?" asked Beryl.

"A toast to Reaver, for giving us these jobs." said Miss Sarah, picking up her glass.

"A toast to Mr. Hatch, who told me to look in the dresser." said Gordon, raising his glass.

Everyone took a sip of their drink. With a gasp, Miss Sarah placed her glass down. "Oh my…that certainly is strong." She said, between breaths.

In between laughs and toasts of good fortune, the group felt lucky.

* * *

><p>In his office, Reaver just stared a Barry. "Well, the new servants seem to like their new quarters, Sir." Barry said, finally.<p>

Reaver only nodded, pondering something in his head. "Circus performers…" Reaver muttered, as Barry poured some wine into a chalice for his boss. "Circus performers. I needed servants, but instead I get circus rejects. Are you sure you hung up more than one copy of the ad?" he asked, as he reached for his drink. The

Barry nodded softly and picked up the empty casserole dish at the far corner of Reaver's desk. "I posted one on the bulletin board in the market, on the walls of the pub in industrial, and handed a bunch out in the old quarter."

"I must be losing touch with the people." Reaver muttered, as he sipped his drink. "Well, they seem promising enough. If anything, the shadow court would be delighted to have one should they not work out." He chuckled between sips. Barry's right eye twitched softly. "That Miss Sarah seems to be the most promising of all and not just because of that superb dish she made. A curvaceous lady like that…" Reaver semi-growled.

"Tomorrow seems promising…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha everyone! I'm Luna Peachie and I hope you enjoyed my first Fable fan-fic! Granted, it's not as illustrious as I had hoped, but hopefully as the series goes on, it'll get better. I have faith. You won't start seeing the quirks the servants have until the next story, as I wanted to get introductions out of the way. Now, a few things:<strong>

**1: I understand I may have made Reaver more passive then he actually is, but it's for the sake of the story.**

**2: I **_**refuse**_** to write Barry's speech impediment. Use your imagination.**

**3: Most of the "chapters" will probably be one shot short stories.**

**4: I am aware most of my characters might take on "Mary Sue" like qualities, but then again, whose don't?**

**5: My French isn't very good (public high school ha-ha), so I had a little help from a free translation site.**

**6. The word **_**arpeggio**_** means harmony. I thought it fit with the description of the food and plus it sounds fancy.**

**7: Reaver and Barry belong to Lionhead yada-yada you know the rest.**

**8: This sentence is false.**


	2. Slow Day at the Office

_Reaver's Servants_

Slow Day at the Office

The sound of snoring could be heard outside the wooden doors. Barry, a somewhat heavy sleeper, tossed onto his side as his wind-up alarm clock went off. "Uhh…" he groaned, trying to untangle himself from his sheets. "I don't want to go to school today, Mummy…" he muttered, reaching for the alarm clock. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Barry pressed his hand against the alarm clock and got up.

Brushing his hair and putting on his uniform, Barry yawned loudly and opened his door. Before he was to wake up Reaver, he had to go wake the "New Recruits" as Reaver had begun calling them. His eyes still not completely open, bumping into things was inevitable, as he almost knocked over a few chairs and vases.

Opening the door to the servant's hallway, Barry straightened himself up and made sure he was awake. He knocked on each door loudly. "Alright, time to get up! Master Reaver wants you all downstairs in ten minutes! Uniforms straightened out and worn properly! Don't forget to wash up before you come down!" he yelled as he knocked on each door loudly.

Each servant got up from their dreams of performances past and got up. Each one reached for their uniforms and each put theirs on one arm at a time.

Miss Sarah, standing at the foot of her bed in her new uniform, greeted the day with a smile. She was probably the only one that got any sleep the night before. She took out the schedule Barry had given her and left her room. The others were standing outside their rooms, in uniform.

Each servant waited for a chance to wash their faces (the servant's hallway had one bathroom, though they didn't mind sharing it) and with a splash of cold water, each one woke up.

Rosie, Willa, and Beryl's uniforms were standard knee-length black dresses with white aprons. The neck lines were a little too low for comfort, but they didn't complain. On the corner of the aprons was the Reaver Industries insignia, embroidered in black. Gordon's uniform was almost identical to Barry's except with black pants. Miss Sarah's uniform was like the other girl's, except completely white (or more of a periwinkle white) and a little longer.

"Alright, you guys. Today is our first day on the job. Let's try to do our best." smiled Miss Sarah.

"…or at least not break anything." laughed Willa as Miss Sarah opened the doors leading to the main part of the home.

"No promises!" Rosie joked as they made their way through the house.

Running downstairs, they were met by their boss and Barry. "Punctual, how impressive." said Reaver, as he looked at his pocket watch. Standing in a straight line, the group watched as Reaver paced in front of them. "Alright, since today is your first day on the job officially, I don't expect a lot, and for that you should be thankful." His elegant walking stick struck the floor softly as he walked. "However, first day or not, I do not tolerate bedlam, chaos, what have you."

Reaver reached to his side and tapped the gun holster on his hip. He took out the gun, which was as elegant as him. "This lovely piece is the Dragonstomper .48. Only six were ever made. I have five of them in my possession, including this one. I use it to enforce my more…shall we say, stricter rules." He stopped and looked at them sternly. "I can tolerate many things, my dears. But inefficiency is not one of them. My recommendation to you is to find your own niche in doing your chores, and as long as I don't have to bring out the whip or my gun, you should be sufficient. Now, scamper off and get to work; I will be around shortly to inspect everything." said Reaver, jovially, as he put his gun away. "Mr. Hatch here has your chore lists."

Each servant walked over to Barry to receive their lists. Miss Sarah approached first. "Here you are, Miss Sarah. You'll find everything you need in the kitchen. Just ask for me if you need anything else." said Barry, with a blush. Nodding with a smile, blushing Miss Sarah took her list and made her way to the kitchen.

Barry handed out the rest of the lists without much else said. "Supplies are in the hall closet. Try not to break anything." He muttered, as he handed out the rest of the lists.

Barry walked to his boss, who stood by the grandfather clock by the front door. "I predict only bad things happening, Hatch." He muttered as his manservant joined him. "They seem…sane enough, Sir." reassured Barry. "There is no such thing as sanity, Hatch, at least not in this house; I figured you would have learned that by now."

Taking out his pocket watch and syncing it with the grandfather clock, Reaver sighed and looked at Barry again. "I can look past them being circus rejects. Hell, considering where I dug you up from it's a step up; but something tells me I'll be firing my gun at something by tonight."

_Rosie_

Before leaving, Reaver looked at Rosie, whose almost hypnotic gaze never left his. "Miss…Rosie, was it?" he asked, as the group got their chore lists and dispersed. Rosie nodded and walked over to him. "Can you do laundry?" he asked. Rosie nodded as Reaver's devilish smile grew wider. "Wonderful! You can double as my chambermaid, then. Follow me." Rosie did as she was told.

Waiting outside Reaver's room, Rosie watched as he threw clothes into a basket. "These garments haven't been cleaned since my last party, which was quite a while ago. I don't trust Barry with my laundry since that time I saw him going through the pockets."

Rosie didn't have to lean down to sniff the ripe smell coming from the clothes. She didn't want to think about what some of those stains were.

"Normally, I'd have you do all my laundry at once, but these need special attention." Reaver said, as he followed Rosie out of his room. "Now, be a good girl and take care of these. When you're done, I want my entire bedroom spotless. And be sure to stay away from the bookshelf." Reaver patted her on the head and watched as Rosie picked up the basket and left the general area.

The laundry room doubled as a basement, and Rosie knew she would have to become accustomed to it. She scrubbed each garment precisely and was silent the entire time. Reaver watched her closely. "Do be careful, those outfits were quite expensive." He repeated to her constantly.

"Yes, Mr. Reaver." She would say. Reaver sat in a nearby chair, arms folded, and watched.

"You have an air about you, Rosie. You seem a little more regal and somewhat lethargic than the others. What was your profession in the circus?" Reaver asked.

"I was a fortune teller, Sir." She answered, simply, not looking up from her work.

"A fortune teller, you say? I've had bad luck with those in the past. I don't care for the art, myself. If one can call it an art. You wouldn't happen to know a blind seer by the name of Theresa, by chance?" he asked both hands on his lap. Rosie shook her head. Reaver sighed in relief. "Well, how about a quick fortune?" he asked, jovially.

Rosie stopped what she was doing and looked at her boss, her expression became worried. "Well, you see, Sir…I was a fortune teller, but I wasn't very good at it."

"Not very good at it?" asked Reaver, somewhat confused.

Rosie nodded, looking somewhat ashamed. "You see, my predictions aren't instantaneous. They are actually quite random and don't follow a linear pattern." Reaver didn't understand. Rosie just stared at him as he stood up and looked down at her. "It's more of a side effect than anything." She said, finally.

"Side-effect of what?" asked Reaver, placing one hand on his hip.

Rosie began to quiver and stood up. "Oh boy, here comes one…" Rosie's eyes went blank as she opened them wide. They started to glow yellow and her voice started to distort.

"_**A SECRET PRISON WILL BE DISCOVERED BY THE QUEEN AND A SECOND REVOLUTION WILL COMMENSE"**_

Coming out of her trance, Rosie rubbed her head and stared at Reaver again. "That was…odd…but luckily, I have a loose interpretation of the word 'odd'." mentioned Reaver, as he left the room. He turned his head only once to see Rosie bend over to pick up a garment that fell from the basket. He snickered at the slight sight of her panties. They were pink.

_Strange woman…but she might come in handy _he thought, as he let his cane lead him out of the basement/laundry room.

_Willa and Beryl_

Early afternoon rolled around and Reaver, still not sure what to make of what he just encountered, strolled to the study. Looking at his pocket watch and noting the time, Reaver sighed as his stomach growled. "Not time for lunch yet…" he muttered, as he entered the study.

In his study, he found Willa surveying the room. "Well, Little Bit…" he said as his cane led the way toward Willa. "Now I get to see first-hand if your claims are true." Reaver still found the notion of her cleaning an entire room in less than five minutes quite hilarious.

"Yes, Sir…as soon as I find Beryl." Willa said as she looked around the room.

"Do you need her help reaching something?" Reaver chuckled.

Willa was used to jokes at her expense when it came to her height, so she just shook her head and folded her arms. "No, it's not that. Beryl insisted on cleaning some of the hard to reach places first, but now I can't find her."

Willa searched high and low as Reaver turned his head a few times (that was his contribution to the search effort). "Beryl?" shouted Willa, looking under tables and in corners. A rustling sound could be heard in the wall over the fireplace behind a big painting of Reaver. "Beryl, are you in there?" asked Willa, as she bent down and looked into the chimney.

"My dear, no one can fit up there." said Reaver, walking up to her. "The last person who tried to clean up there…"

Beryl poked her soot covered head out of the fireplace and smiled. Reaver jumped back in surprise. "My, my…it certainly was dirty up there." coughed Beryl, as she slid out of the chimney. Like a snake, Beryl curved her back and slithered out of the fireplace and back to her feet. Reaver noticed she was wearing nothing but her dress slip. Shaking the soot off of her slip, Beryl walked to the table and put her maid outfit back on. His right eye twitching, Reaver watched Beryl wipe off her glasses on her apron and put them back on. "Oh, I found out what happened to the last guy who tried to clean the chimney. I hope he didn't have family. He's up there pretty good." She commented.

Willa smiled softly and looked up at Reaver, who was in a small state of shock. "Oh, I probably should have mentioned earlier, but I am a contortionist." said Beryl, retying her apron.

"A contortionist?" Reaver asked, somewhat intrigued.

"I can bend my body into angles of sorts. It's really fun." Beryl bent backward all the way and poked her head from in between her knees. "I was called 'Lady Pretzel' and my act got a lot of attention." She continued as she bent down and held herself up with only her hands. Her legs over her head, Beryl happily walked to Reaver on her hands. Reaver stepped back a bit.

_This would be arousing if it wasn't somewhat disturbing_ he thought as he backed his way into a table. "How…how do you do that?" he asked. In all his years, every woman he has ever been with or even known, he had never seen any girl bend her joints the way Beryl did.

Beryl slipped off her shoe and scratched her head with her big toe. "Years of practice." She answered simply as she untied her body from its knot. Beryl bowed as Willa clapped. "It gets easier after you almost break your spine a few times." She added, picking up a feather duster.

One eye twitching and fighting back the urge to pull out his gun, Reaver regained composure and straightened his shirt. "Well, that was…disturbing. Tell me, Beryl, can Willa really clean as fast as she claims she can?" he asked, finally.

Beryl nodded happily. "Oh yes, Mr. Reaver! She's fast, in general. In fact, in the time we've been standing here talking, she's rearranged your book shelves, cleared out the rugs, swept the floor, dusted the odd statue you have in the middle of the study, and set out a pipe for you."

Reaver turned around and saw the study immaculate. Reaver was understandably skeptical, even as he noticed a lit pipe in his hand. Everything was spotless, even under the statue he had in his study.

He looked over at her cleaning under a chair. "Oopsie, missed a spot!" she said, cheerfully. Reaver watched in amazement as Willa effortlessly picked up the chair by one of its short legs and swept up the dust before setting it back down.

"Willa's father was the strong man." said Rosie, as if almost appearing out of nowhere behind Reaver. "He was training her before our circus shut down."

Reaver's heart almost jumped out of his chest. "Wha…where did you come from?" he growled, holding his heart as if having a heart attack.

Rosie handed Reaver a piece of paper. "Miss Sarah wanted me to ask you what you would like for lunch out of the items listed on this menu you set for her." She asked, dryly. Reaver eyed the little menu over.

Suddenly losing his appetite, Reaver handed the menu back to Rosie. "Tell Miss Sarah I'll just have a garden salad, and have Barry bring it up to my office along with my tea."

_Gordon_

"Oh Reaver, Reaver, Reaver…" Reaver muttered to himself as he tapped his pen against some paperwork. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?" he asked himself, reclining in his chair. "And where the hell is my lunch?"

Looking out the window, the sight of the afternoon sun reflecting majestically off of Bower Lake was certainly a sight to behold. "Lovely. I can't believe I almost gave this up. No one can appreciate it like I can." He chuckled to himself. "The summer months will be coming up soon, I probably should be planning my…trip." He said softly as he looked around for a drink.

He heard a knock at his office door. "Enter!" he shouted.

Barry walked in, blushing cheerfully with a tray containing a covered dish and a tea set. "Lunchtime, Master Reaver!" he said, happily. Barry placed the tray down and uncovered the dish. "A garden salad, as you requested, Master. Made fresh by Miss Sarah." He said cheerfully. "She didn't know what kind of dressing you prefer, so she made some vinaigrette." He placed the plate in front of Reaver along with the tiny side bowl of dressing.

The salad was a colorful splash of greens and other veggies that made Reaver's mouth water. To him, salads had always been dull and usually only ate them when he couldn't figure out what he wanted to eat. But this salad was colorful and looked fresh. "My, my…Miss Sarah certainly outdid herself, didn't she?" said Reaver, as he poured the dressing over the leafy salad.

Barry blushed softly and held the tray close. "I watched her make the meal…she's certainly talented…"

Reaver watched Barry's hands shake as he attempted to pour the tea into the decorative cup. He spilled a few drops on the desk. Barry took out his handkerchief and cleaned up the spots. "Hatch, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were smitten with our dear Miss Sarah." Reaver teased, picking up the cup by its little handle.

Barry blushed and shook his head. "Oh no…no, no, no, Sir. I barely know her." He said as he took up the tray cover.

Chuckling softly, Reaver looked outside at the garden with a devilish smirk. "It certainly is a beautiful day, isn't it, Hatch? The birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, it's not too hot, and we have such a refreshing breeze coming in from the mountains. A lovely day for a stroll in the garden, wouldn't you say? In fact, is that Miss Sarah walking along the garden path?" he inquired.

Barry rushed over to the window and looked out, seeing only Gordon working on a hedge. Reaver laughed loudly as Barry turned back around. "I'll be back up in a half hour to get your dishes." Barry muttered as he left the room.

Eating his salad, Reaver watched Gordon work on the hedge from his office window. _Finally, something normal_ he thought, as he watched Gordon work around some of the hedges. The hedge was taking shape. It was a swan. "He certainly knows his way around a pair of hedge clippers." He commented, as he nibbled on the salad.

Reaver watched as Gordon eyed the bush and cocked his head. Reaver liked Gordon's attention to detail and his patience with the hedge. Reaver put down his plate and opened the window. "I see you read my requests on your chore list." He shouted to Gordon, as he stepped back from the hedge.

Waving his hedge clippers, Gordon nodded appreciatively as he went back to eying the hedge. "I used to help the make-up artist at the circus style the performers' hair in between my acts. Odd, intricate shapes are child's play to me." He laughed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"What was your profession in the circus?" asked Reaver, lustfully watching Gordon wiping sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

"Well, I was an acrobat and trapeze artist, first and foremost." Gordon hopped onto the trellis with little effort in order to reach part of the swan hedge he was working on. "I don't like to toot my own horn…" Gordon started.

_I'll toot it for you then…_ thought Reaver, as he watched.

"…but I was pretty good." He leaned over, only moving his ankles, as he snipped a few pieces here and there.

He then stood on one foot to reach another part. "There is a ladder in the garden shed. You could do this in a less…suicidal way, you know." shouted Reaver, leaning half-way out of his window.

"I could but…" Gordon grabbed hold of the nearby pergola and swung himself down, landing perfectly on his feet, arms in the air. "Not as much fun." Gordon picked up some gardening tools and started juggling. "You said it yourself: find your niche and go with it." He started walking while juggling the garden implements. "Those rose bushes have seen better days, better go check on them. Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Reaver. Don't fall out the window!"

Reaver didn't realize he was half-way out of the window, with Barry holding onto the back of his coat. Reaver wondered how long he had been holding onto him as Barry yanked his boss back inside. "I came back early to collect the tea." He said, lackluster, as Reaver straightened himself up. "Master Reaver, there are more dignified ways to kill yourself."

_Miss Sarah_

Evening finally rolled around, and the manor was once again spotless. Reaver was happy to see everything up and running again, despite the odd way in which it came to be. _Five circus rejects did all this…_ he thought to himself, as he inspected every inch of the house. There were no more signs of the party gone badly from a few months again, or any evidence of Barry's cleaning style. With a satisfied smile, Reaver sniffed the air around the staircase.

He looked at his pocket watch and then to the grandfather clock nearby. "I didn't even notice the lateness of the hour. Miss Sarah sure is prompt." He muttered to himself, making his way to the study.

With their chores done, Rosie and Willa helped Miss Sarah prepare dinner. "Rosemary chicken with sautéed mushrooms and a side of potatoes and greens." She sang happily to herself as she seasoned the chicken breasts with thyme and lemon. Miss Sarah held the lemon in her hand and squeezed it softly. The next moment, it was gone. She giggled softly to herself.

Placing the chicken in the oven with the potatoes, Miss Sarah hurried to the sink and got out the fancy china and silverware she had been washing. "Here, Willa. Dry these and go set the dining room table. It will take a while for the chicken to cook, but I want everything to be ready when it is done." Willa nodded and hurried toward the staircase, holding the items.

"Rosie, have you finished washing the napkins?" asked Miss Sarah, as she began cutting green beans. Rosie nodded as the chopping sound of the knife became faster. "Alright, go help Willa set up Mr. Reaver's place at the table." Rosie nodded and went to find Willa.

As she chopped green beans and placed them in a bowl, Barry slowly walked into the kitchen. Miss Sarah looked up and smiled softly. "Oh, hello Mr. Hatch!" she said cheerfully, as she took the bowl to the sink to rinse out the green beans.

Barry smiled with a blush and walked over to her. "Master Reaver sent me in here to check on dinner. It smells delicious." He commented.

Miss Sarah swirled the beans around with her hand. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Hatch. Dinner should be ready in a little while. I still have to sauté the mushrooms and cook the green beans." Barry watched her hurry about the kitchen. "Did Mr. Reaver say what he would like to drink with dinner?" she asked, as she prepared the pan for the mushrooms.

"He'll probably just have wine, like always. You shouldn't worry too much, I'll just pick something out from the cellar." mentioned Barry, shrugging it off.

"Well, could you go ask him, just to make sure? I want to make a good impression. I want to serve this dinner with just the right wine to not only compliment the dish, but also to make him happy." Miss Sarah looked around for the mushrooms, but couldn't figure out where she placed them.

"If that salad this afternoon didn't impress him, that delicious chicken you're making certainly will." Barry bowed to Miss Sarah and left the kitchen. Miss Sarah waved to Barry as he left and then placed a bowl upside down. Snapping her fingers, she lifted the bowl and turned it right side up. Inside, where the mushrooms.

Barry strolled toward the study, where Reaver sat, reading the paper. He looked up at Barry and sighed. "Beryl brought me the paper…" he mentioned. Barry shrugged, not getting where Reaver was going with the statement. "She was also cleaning the inside of the piano, which is a two hand job. Do you know what she used to hand me this paper, Barry?"

Barry shook his head. "Her foot…" Reaver mumbled, going back to his article. "…from inside the piano."

Not sure how to respond, Barry just straightened out his coat and cleared his throat. "Well, in any case, Master Reaver, Miss Sarah said dinner should be ready in a little while. She has Willa and Rosie setting the table, and she sent me in here to find out what you wanted to drink with dinner." Barry twiddled his thumbs.

"Just pick any wine from the lot, considering all I've seen today, I'm not too picky at the moment." Reaver flipped a page in the newspaper as Barry bowed and started to leave.

Gordon, tray in hand and washed up from his day in the garden, walked past Barry as he was leaving the study. Standing next to Reaver, Gordon leaned down and handed Reaver a glass filled with scotch. "I'm a man that loves my scotch, Mr. Reaver, but isn't this stuff a little strong, considering supper is about ready?" Gordon inquired, placing the tray close to his side.

"After everything that's happened today, not strong enough. Go help the girls finish setting the table." mentioned Reaver, as he sipped the drink. Gordon shrugged and bowed, making his way out of the study.

Barry walked into the kitchen to see Miss Sarah doing the finishing touches on the side items. "Oh, Mr. Hatch, thank goodness you came when you did."

Barry blushed. _No dirty thoughts, Hatch_ he kept thinking to himself.

"I need to get these side items up to the dining room, but Willa and Rosie are still setting the table and I have to keep an eye on the main course. Could you take them up there for me?" she asked, as she rushed back to the oven. "Watch out, they are very hot and heavy."

_No dirty thoughts, Hatch_ he kept thinking to himself, as he picked up the tray.

Holding the hot, heavy tray steady, Barry did his own balancing act as he walked up the stairs. Sadly, his coordination was betraying him. He felt himself starting to trip over the top step. He landed on his stomach and hit his chin on the floor. He looked up, and panicked. He felt himself drop the tray, but there was no mess on the floor.

Gordon smiled down at Barry, holding two dishes in each hand, and one on the tip of his foot. "You alright, Mr. Hatch?" he asked, as he hopped over to the table. Placing the items down, and walked back over and helped Barry up.

Brushing himself off, Barry scowled at Gordon. "I'm on to you…" he said, as he walked backward toward the doorway. Beryl, who was helping Gordon place flowers on the table, cocked her eyebrow.

Taking the dish out of the oven, Miss Sarah smiled at her handy work. "Lovely." She whispered to herself and she placed the pan on the table. The steamy chicken was surrounded by potatoes and the lemon zest could only be hinted at in the smell. The smell quickly made its way through the home, which caught Reaver's attention as he made his way to the dining hall.

When he approached the table, his eyes widened at the sight. The candles were lit, fresh cut flowers adorned the table, and his plate and silverware were placed correctly out in front of his place at the end of the table.

At his chair, his servants (save for Miss Sarah) stood, waiting for him. "My, my…what is all this?" asked Reaver, as he made his way to the end of the table.

"First impressions last forever." said Rosie, Willa, and Beryl, as they bowed before their boss. Gordon pulled out Reaver's chair and dusted it off for him. Beryl laid a clean white napkin down by the silverware as Reaver sat down to Rosie pouring him some wine into the cleanest wine glass he had ever seen. She placed the wine bottle off to the side as Willa announced Miss Sarah's arrival with dinner.

Reaver looked up as the servants stepped back. Miss Sarah brought in the main course. "I hope you're hungry, Mr. Reaver." She said, with her sunniest smile.

Placing the tray down, she unveiled the dish. It was empty. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" yelled Reaver.

Miss Sarah, embarrassed, rubbed her hands together and clapped. In a poof of smoke, the main course appeared. "Tonight's dinner is rosemary chicken with sautéed mushrooms and a side of green beans, Sir. The chicken is fresh from the farm down the road, as well as the green beans and potatoes." She said as she bowed. Barry walked over and started making Reaver's plate.

"Let me guess…magician, Miss Sarah?" asked Reaver.

"Magician's assistant." She corrected with a bow. Reaver started to say something, but decided, with everything he had seen today, to just let it go.

"Well, it seems my misconceptions were unwarranted. You all did a wonderful job today. A bit uncouth for my tastes, but you got your jobs done with no complaints and you got them done right. I think this is the start of a wonderful work related relationship. Now, off with you!" smiled Reaver, as the plate was set before him.

The servants left Reaver and Barry (who always ate with Reaver) to their meal and went to the kitchen. "Well, Master Reaver, what do you think?" said Barry, breaking the silence.

Reaver sipped his wine and cut into his chicken. "I am a gentleman, first and foremost, and I can admit when I am wrong." Reaver popped a piece into his mouth and smiled.

"Well?" asked Barry.

"I can…I just won't."

* * *

><p>In his office, later that night, Reaver wrote in his journal as Barry tidied up. "I'm about to head off to bed, Master Reaver. Do you need anything before I do?" he asked, placing the feather duster down.<p>

Reaver shook his head and smiled to Barry as he shooed him off. "No, that will be all, Barry. I'll see you in the morning."

As Barry bowed and left the office, Reaver refilled his pen from the inkwell and began the next part of his journal entry.

_"T__oday marked the first day for my new employees, the circus rejects from the previous passage. I must say, I am actually impressed by their work and I might have actually been wrong about them. But, as I told them, if they can last a month here, then I'll be sincerely impressed. Only the strong last more than a month here. Some quit, some disappear, some get mauled by balverines…not naming any names, of course._

_Barry has been here for years, and even though I had to revive him a few times, he's holding up well. His little crush on my new cook, Miss Sarah, is actually kind of cute. Though, we'll see who gets her first."_

Closing his journal with a self-satisfying grin, Reaver turned off his desk lamp and left the room. "First impressions…" he laughed to himself. "I hope today didn't give them the wrong impression about working here." He muttered to himself as he left the office and walked to his bedroom.

"Today was easy…let's just see what tomorrow brings."

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha again, everyone! Luna Peachie here again! Now that introductions are out of the way, the insanity can begin! If they think it's easy working for Reaver, they have another thing coming. Of course, this day was tame compared to what my screwed up imagination has in store! By the way, someone familiar will be in the next installment. Not saying who!<strong>

**Interesting fact: I actually I got the idea for this fan-fic by watching Azumanga Daioh! "But Luna Peachie" you may ask, "How did a great anime such as Azumanga Daioh inspire you to write this insanity?" Well, good question. The slice of life format of Azumanga Daioh is amazing, and I noticed a lot of fan-fics lacked that. Granted, slice of life doesn't work with everything, but I'm trying my best.**

**I would like to take a moment to thank two people who gave me my first reviews. xGoodMourningx and Gwynedde. Thank you for the lovely reviews.**

**You know the drill.**

**1: Reaver and Barry are owned by Lionhead**

**2: Please enjoy and review**


	3. Who's That Creepin?

_Reaver's Servants_

Who's That Creepin'?

Spring was half-way over, and the servants seemed to be adjusting well to life around the manor. Things ran like clock-work, which is what Reaver liked to see. Occasionally, there were slip-ups, but nothing that couldn't be handled without a warning shot from the Dragonstomper, or a cracked of the whip. The whip he rarely had to use, which was good for him, as Reaver hated having to dig it out of his bottom dresser drawer. Reaver hadn't left the manor much since hiring the "Circus Rejects", as he had been calling them. He felt before their month trial period was up, he needed to keep a close eye on them himself. Not that he didn't trust Barry's judgment, but seeing as Barry was a little more relaxed with running things, Reaver felt it necessary to stay around his home.

Today, however, would be a day he wished he actually left the manor. Not just to avoid the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk. But he would have saved himself the headache, as well.

_Scrip-scrip-scrip_ went Reaver's pen as it danced along the paperwork. He told his servants not to disturb him today, as factory paperwork seemed to pile up every second. He looked out the open window of his office and watched the beautiful spring day pass by. His hat off, Reaver smiled at the gentle breeze wafting through his hair. Keeping in tune with the music of the day, Reaver tried to keep his mind on his paperwork. Usually, he tricked Barry into doing it for him, but the Queen seemed to be on to them. "It was so much easier when Logan was king." He muttered, leaning back in his chair. "All he did was stuff anything I sent to him into a drawer."

Outside of his office, Reaver told Barry to keep an eye on things. "Keep the New Recruits out of trouble!" Were the specific instructions Reaver gave Barry. Easy enough, as the servants usually kept themselves busy and stayed out of Reaver's way. In reality, it was a pretty quiet day. Everyone (save for Barry and Miss Sarah) was out in the garden today, watching Gordon work on the plants.

"You'd think a big mansion like this would have more to clean." said Willa, who was sitting next to Rosie on a stone bench.

"Well, if you don't keep your voice down, Mr. Reaver will find something for us to do. Remember last time we complained about finishing too early?" warned Rosie, her hands in her lap.

"I didn't know he was going to make us clean the whole house again with our hands tied behind our backs." sulked Willa, rubbing her wrists.

Beryl giggled and leaned against the stone bench (she was sitting on the ground). "You have to admit, Mr. Reaver is creative." she giggled.

"Said the contortionist." mentioned Rosie again. Beryl shrugged with a nervous grin.

"Why are you girls out here, anyway?" asked Gordon, as he monkeyed his way down from a high trellis.

"Miss Sarah sent me out here to get apples. She's making apple pie tonight for dessert. Willa and Beryl are avoiding Mr. Hatch." said Rosie.

"Well, the apples on the tree near the garden gate are ripe. Go ahead and get a bushel before you have Miss Sarah mad at you too. I think there is a basket in the garden shed." Gordon pointed toward the garden gate and held his hedge clippers close by. Rosie nodded and walked toward the garden shed. "Why are you two avoiding Mr. Hatch?" asked Gordon.

"He's been chasing us all day. I think he wants someone to talk to, since Mr. Reaver is so busy." said Willa.

Rosie walked along the cobblestone path toward the garden shed, admiring the flowers. "Gordon did wonders for the garden." She said to herself, as she opened the garden shed. Searching the shed, Rosie could swear she heard footsteps behind her, and they sounded rushed. "Beryl? Willa?" she inquired behind her. Rosie shrugged, thinking it was a squirrel and bent over to pick up the basket.

Reaching the apples wasn't a problem for tall Rosie. The only problem she had while picking apples was the gnawing feeling that someone was watching her. Looking all around her, Rosie shrugged and picked up the basket. "I hope this is enough. I wonder how many she's making tonight?" she asked herself, as she walked toward the front door. Rosie stopped for a moment, her head hurting. Placing the basket down, Rosie leaned against the garden fence as her eyes began to glow. "Here comes…another one…" she said to herself. She opened her eyes wide and began to speak:

"_**Protect Reaver! Protect Reaver! She will come for him but will not succeed!"**_

Shaking her head as the prediction stopped, Rosie breathed heavily. "That one seemed oddly specific." she muttered, picking the basket back up.

Arriving at the front door, Rosie saw a young woman, dressed in a pink dress, standing by the door. She looked anxious. Rosie noted the girl had three buns in her hair and was wearing pink. She seemed to be trying to pick the lock on the door. "Almost got it…" she muttered, as the needle she had swirled around in the lock. Rosie set down the basket and walked closer. "In a matter of minutes, I'll be in and soon…" the young woman laughed maniacally.

"It's not locked." said Rosie, stepping toward the young woman. The girl spun around with a yelp. Rosie tapped her foot, arms crossed. "Do you have business with Mr. Reaver, or are you just a really bad thief?" Rosie asked, foot tapping getting faster and faster. The girl, still a bit panicked, smiled and rubbed the back of her head.

"Yes, well…you see…" was all the young woman said before she zoomed down the path toward the main gate. Rosie cocked an eyebrow and picked up the basket again. Questioning what she just saw, Rosie shrugged.

Closing the door behind her, she could hear her boss on the top floor, yelling angrily at his paperwork. "Why doesn't he just trick Barry into doing it?" she wondered to herself. Placing down the basket for a moment, Rosie walked back to the door to make sure it was locked. She then heard a gunshot from upstairs. _Yeah, he should have made Barry do it_ she thought.

Rosie walked into the kitchen, where Barry was helping Miss Sarah make the pie crusts. Miss Sarah, with a smile always adorning her face, was nodding happily along to Barry's story.

"…which gave us a differential tax return of about thirty percent, which wasn't quite as cost effective as we were being led to believe; but still I think the major savings were well worth primary investment. And it was around that time I decided my future lay in accountancy." Barry finished, as he rolled the rolling pin on the dough.

"Wow. That certainly sounds impressive, Mr. Hatch." said Miss Sarah with a smile, as she stretched the dough into the pie tin. Barry blushed and continued flattening out the dough.

Rosie set the apples down and walked up to the table. "Something strange just happened." She commented, as she approached the two.

"And what has been normal since you all arrived?" asked Barry. "No offense, of course, Miss Sarah."

Miss Sarah nodded and picked a few apples from the basket. "I mean, some girl just tried to pick an unlocked door with a sewing needle. When I asked if she has business with Reaver, she ran off." said Rosie, taking an apple and biting into it.

Barry, somewhat panicked, just looked at Rosie nervously. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. Probably just someone trying to sell us something again. You know how forward girl scouts can be. Picking locks, tunneling under the house, they literally stop at nothing to sell us those awful cookies." Barry's nervous laugh and avoidance of the subject didn't get past Miss Sarah.

"She didn't look like any girl scout I've ever seen." Rosie grumbled, as she finished her apple and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

"Well, either way, Miss Rosie, just get back to your chores. Master Reaver might take a lunch break soon, if he doesn't toss his desk out the window from frustration. Don't want him to think you're slacking off, now do you?" Barry replied, somewhat nervous. Rosie nodded, somewhat confused, and left the kitchen.

Rosie walked into the foyer and up the stairs, passing by Reaver and bowing her head with a hello as she did. Reaver ignored Rosie and walked into the kitchen where Miss Sarah and Barry were peeling apples. Miss Sarah looked up and smiled. "Oh, hello Mr. Reaver; are you done with your paperwork already?" she asked.

Reaver didn't answer that question, but he did take an apple from the basket on the table. "Miss Sarah, I know I said I wanted chicken soup for lunch, but as my paperwork seems to have taken over my desk, I'll just have a sandwich. Have Barry send it up once it is done." He said, rubbing the apple on his vest. Miss Sarah nodded and went to find the bread.

"Hatch, I need you to have the desk lamp for my office replaced as soon as possible." said Reaver, as he and Barry left the kitchen.

"Alright, but what's wrong with the one you have?" Barry asked, as they arrived in the foyer.

Reaver, a little ticked off at all the questions today, just stared at Barry. "It has a bullet hole in it."

As the afternoon went on, Rosie found herself setting the laundry out on the clothesline in the garden. First went up Reaver's posh sheets, then his clothes. "Girl scout, nothing. I know what I saw." She kept muttering to herself. Rosie turned around when she heard scampering footsteps, only to find a cat staring up at her. "Oh, hello there, Kitty." She smiled, as she patted the cat on the head. "You might not want to stick around here long; my boss isn't very fond of animals, and Gordon will chase you with a garden hoe if he sees you nibbling on the plants."

The cat mewed softly as Rosie turned back to the laundry basket. It was gone. Rosie looked around frantically and then looked behind her. The cat was gone too. Rosie walked around the general area and found the basket, but it was empty. She then heard footsteps again. "Beryl…Willa…Gordon?" she called out, angrily. "This isn't funny, you guys. If Mr. Reaver finds out his laundry is missing and he punishes me…" she walked around a hedge to see the girl in pink again, fawning over the laundry.

"Hey!" yelled Rosie, as she ran toward the girl.

Grasping on to a shirt tightly, the girl made a run for it. Rosie found herself chasing the girl all over the garden. The girl knocked down anything she thought would block Rosie, but Rosie avoided everything with precise agility. The girl finally tripped over a bucket Gordon left out and fell. As Rosie closed in, the girl threw the shirt at Rosie; its wet fabric embraced Rosie's face. Gordon had just rounded a corner as Rosie was pulling the shirt off. "Rosie! What the hell have you done!?" he yelled, looking at the mess in the garden. "Look at all this! It will take me all day to clean this up!"

A shocked look on her face, Rosie pointed right in front of her. "It wasn't me! The Girl in Pink did this!"

Gordon looked where Rosie was pointing, but saw nothing. "Rosie, have you been huffing the cleaning products?" he asked, sounding semi-concerned.

"But…" Rosie looked all around, but only saw the devastation her chase had caused.

"What the hell is all that commotion?!" yelled a voice from the second story of the house. Looking up, Rosie and Gordon saw Reaver, with a very angry look on his face, staring down at them from his office window. "I specifically told everyone not to bother me or make a ruckus today." Reaver looked about the garden, seeing it a complete mess. "Rosie, why is my laundry strewn about the garden? And why does my garden look like a warzone?!" he inquired loudly.

Rosie didn't get a chance to defend herself when Reaver fired a warning shot from his gun in between her and Gordon. "I have no time for your excuses! When you're done redoing the laundry, help Gordon clean up this mess you made!" he shouted as he slammed his window shut. A bit angry but more disappointed in herself, Rosie gathered up the laundry and walked back inside. Gordon knew Rosie was a bit "off" in some areas, but he had known Rosie for years, and she certainly wasn't crazy.

After rewashing and hanging up the laundry to dry again, Rosie helped Gordon clean up the garden. Luckily, Gordon picked up most of it already, but it still took until about early evening to finish everything. As she placed a potted plant back on the garden cart, Rosie questioned everything that had happened in the course of one afternoon. "I know what I saw…" she kept muttering to herself, as she walked toward the clothesline. Placing the basket firmly down, Rosie started gathering the laundry back up. Folding each sheet and shirt properly, Rosie sighed and decided it might be best to let this one go.

Beryl found herself scrubbing windows outside the house when Rosie walked back inside, looking dejected. "I wonder what's eating her today…" Beryl asked herself, as she reached for a clean rag (with her foot). Beryl dipped the rag in the bucket of water and started washing another window. Beryl could hear scampering under her stepping ladder. "Oh, Willa, is that you?" she asked, not even looking away from the task. "Just put those extra rags by the bucket." Beryl got no answer.

Beryl looked under her and saw no one. "Hmm, she probably forgot the rags..." She assumed, dipping the rag back into the bucket of soapy water. Stepping to the tip top of the ladder, Beryl heard shuffling again below her. "Willa, you're too fast for your own good." She said, looking under herself. Beryl didn't see Willa, but she did see a little tabby cat with a pink ribbon on its neck.

"Oh, well hello there, you cute little thing!" Beryl cooed, as she stepped down from the stepping ladder. "You must belong to one of the noble children who live around here. Mr. Reaver doesn't care for pets much." Beryl bent over and patted the kitty cat on the head. "You look like you want someone to play with." Beryl reached into her pocket and took out a small key loop with four keys on it. She jingled them softly and the cat playfully pawed at them. Beryl put them back into her pocket and stood up. "Sorry, Mr. Kitty, I can't let you have these. These are the keys to the manor. Mr. Reaver likes having the doors locked so I need them to get back in. Mr. Hatch sometimes keeps the door unlocked, but he…"

Beryl found herself being tackled by the cat. Keys flying in the air, they were caught by the Girl in Pink. "Come on, let's go!" she shouted, as the cat leaped off Beryl and followed her. Beryl got up only to see the front doors slam.

Readjusting her glasses, Beryl stood up and sat on the step ladder. "I'm probably in a lot of trouble for this…"

The front doors slammed shut loudly; loud enough for Reaver to hear in his office. Loud enough for Reaver to snap his pen in half out of frustration. His paperwork half-way done, Reaver reached for another pen in his desk drawer. "I should have given them the day off, at least then I could have some peace and quiet." He muttered, as he filled a new pen.

Barry heard the front doors slam, even with the doors to the kitchen shut. "I wonder who's in such a hurry to come inside." asked Miss Sarah, taking the first apple pie out of the oven.

Barry's right eye twitched as he put down the apple he was peeling. "If you'll excuse me Miss Sarah, I have a last minute errand to take care of." said Barry, his tone semi-authoritative. Miss Sarah watched him leave the kitchen, his stride strong. With a blush, Miss Sarah waved to him as he left. Barry entered the foyer just as Beryl was coming inside. Looking disheveled, Beryl leaned against a nearby couch. "What in the hell happened to you?" asked Barry, helping Beryl sit down.

"Some cat with a pink bow attacked me and stole the keys you lent me." Beryl whined

Blinking softly, Barry made sure Beryl was alright before leaving the general area. "This has to end before she kills someone…" he muttered, as he went to the nearby cabinet.

Upstairs, in the hallway closet, Willa struggled to get free from her confinement. Someone snuck up behind her, ambushed, and tied her up with the rags she was to bring to Beryl. "Stay in there, Short Round." said the Girl in Pink, as she shut the closet door tightly. "Now, nothing stands between me and my Reaver!" she cackled. "Stay here and keep guard." She instructed to the cat as she tip-toed off.

"…I'm telling the truth, Miss Sarah!" the Girl in Pink heard Rosie trying to reason with Miss Sarah, who was busy concentrating on the tray she was carrying. She hid within the doorway of a nearby vacant room and listened closely.

"Rosie, I have never doubted your stories, but please let me get this to Mr. Reaver before he throws a conniption. He's had a rough day, and requested this coffee to be brought up immediately." The Girl in Pink smiled evilly, as she now saw her newest target. "After this, I have to start on dinner. Go wipe off the dining table before Mr. Reaver comes out."

Feeling defeated and questioning her sanity, Rosie walked away and left Miss Sarah to her duty. Thinking she heard sounds coming from a nearby closet, Rosie walked in that direction, but was stopped by Gordon. He held up a piece of pink fabric for her to see. "I pulled this off a thorn when I was repairing the rose bushes. You said something earlier about a girl in pink?" he asked, as Rosie took the fabric and examined it. It was a cheap fabric, obviously dyed and looked worn. "I am inclined to believe you now, Rosie." He said with his face red with anger. "Someone has been causing trouble around here all day, and letting you take the blame."

"You're a life saver, Miss Sarah!" said Reaver, jovially. Sipping the coffee happily, Reaver's mood became more relaxed. His mountain of paperwork was now a little stack. "I was worried I'd never dig myself out of this grave of papers." He chuckled, placing the cup down.

Miss Sarah bowed happily. "We were all a little worried about you, Mr. Reaver." She said softly.

"Oh, come now Miss Sarah, you shouldn't worry over me. Paperwork comes with owning factories. They simply don't run themselves. Not unlike this house." Reaver's "modesty" made Miss Sarah blush slightly.

"Before I go, Sir, what did you want for dinner?" she asked softly.

"I'm…in the mood for fish tonight." He said, with a devilish smile.

Miss Sarah smiled and bowed. "Does trout sound okay?" she asked.

"Sounds delightful." He answered, as she left the room. "Slowly reeling in…" he uttered to himself, taking another sip.

In the foyer, Barry was doing something by the cabinet when three of the servants approached him. He didn't seem too surprised by the angry looks on their faces as he watched Gordon step forward. "Mr. Hatch, we have a problem." said Gordon, holding up the fabric.

Barry sighed and turned to them. "I know, and I should have told you all earlier, but I didn't want to risk Reaver finding out." Barry instructed them toward a pillar, not wanting to be overheard. "If I am correct, the girl you all have been encountering all day is a young woman named Benjamina. She's Master Reaver's number one fan." He said, while leaning against a nearby pillar, arms folded.

"That's adorable." said Rosie, half-heartedly.

"It's adorable when she walks up and asks for an autograph. It's when she breaks into the manor to steal our trash she's violating the latest restraining order." Barry said, a bit angry. "Master Reaver had me get the newest restraining order after he found her stuck in his closet after trying to steal some of his…umm…unmentionables." Barry blushed and walked to the staircase. "Benjamina may seem harmless, but in in truth, she's dangerous. She'll do anything to get close to Reaver."

Barry pulled down the collar of his shirt and showed them a small scar near his hairline. "That's from the time she knocked me out and stole my uniform to get past the guards at a party Reaver was throwing."

Beryl shook nervously. "But I didn't see a girl, I just saw a cat." She mentioned.

"Ahh yes, her cute little kitty cat. With the cute little pink bow around its neck, right? She named it 'Reaver Jr.' despite it being female. Apparently, the little kitty-kitty is the newest member of the Reaver Fan Club." Barry sighed, looking over at the sound of at someone coming down the stairs.

Everyone hushed when they saw Miss Sarah walking down the stairs toward them. "Is something the matter?" she asked, as she approached them.

"Oh, nothing Miss Sarah. Just having a…what do you call it…a pow-wow before Master Reaver comes out for dinner. A pep-talk, if you will." Barry answered nervously.

"How lovely." She said, with a smile. "Well, dinner will be ready soon. Mr. Reaver only wanted trout tonight, so dinner won't take long." She continued her way to the kitchen.

As Miss Sarah disappeared into the kitchen, the four decided to split up. "Find Benjamina before she kills someone or breaks something. And whatever you do, don't let Master Reaver find out she's here!" Barry commanded as they split into different directions.

Finally done with all his paperwork, Reaver sighed happily and left his office. He didn't like how eerily quiet the house had become, but shrugged it off and made his way to the main part of the house. He could smell dinner being cooked and made his way to the kitchen. Reaver heard scurrying behind him and took a look but saw nothing. "Whoever is behind me better be cleaning something…" he muttered loudly.

Entering the kitchen, he heard Miss Sarah humming as she cooked. Tapping his walking stick on the floor three times, he got her attention. "Oh, Mr. Reaver! I just started on the trout; I just need to find the butter…" she said, as she scurried about the counter.

"Don't worry about buttering it, Miss Sarah. I need to watch my cholesterol anyway." He said with a devilish smile. "I was actually wondering if you would like to join me at the dinner table tonight, instead of sitting in the drafty kitchen with the other servants." He asked, with both hands on the top of his cane.

With a blush, Miss Sarah politely denied his request. "Thank you, Sir, but I have too much to do tonight. Maybe some other time." She walked over to the oven and opened it, checking on the trout she placed inside.

Reaver, somewhat unfamiliar with rejection, was about to say something else when he heard clamoring upstairs. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Sarah." He said, as he pulled his gun from his holster and walked away. Reaver went as far as the staircase and shot one shot into the doorway of the dining room. "I am giving whoever is making all that noise one warning shot. Do not make me come up there!" he shouted.

Dinnertime came around, and the table was still not set. Miss Sarah rushed to set Reaver's place and get his wine set out. "I wonder where everyone is." She wondered, with a worried expression.

"Wherever they are, they better be bloody busy with something to keep me waiting like this." shouted Reaver, as he walked into the dining hall.

Miss Sarah poured his wine as he graced behind her toward his seat. "Are you sure you wish to start without Mr. Hatch?" she asked, as she bent over to pour the wine. Miss Sarah thought she felt something pinch her behind as he walked past and blushed. Thinking she was mistaken (or at least hoping she was), Miss Sarah finished pouring the wine and placed the bottle down.

"If he wants to be late for dinner, he can eat in the kitchen with everyone else." said Reaver, as he sat down.

"I'll be right back with dinner, Mr. Reaver." She said softly with a bow. Reaver unfolded a napkin and placed it on his lap. Miss Sarah reappeared shortly after that with the main course in hand. "Here we are, Mr. Reaver. A delicious meal after a day climbing mountains of paperwork." She giggled, as she set the tray down and uncovered it. Reaver's stomach was growling. He didn't get a chance to finish his sandwich from lunch (he lost it after a stack of papers fell on it and couldn't find it afterward), so the steaming hot trout being placed before him made his mouth water.

Placing the napkin on her hand, Miss Sarah snapped her fingers and uncovered her hand, revealing a little plate with butter on it. "Just in case you change your mind." She smiled, placing the little plate beside Reaver's dish.

"Please stop doing that." muttered Reaver, as he picked up his knife and fork. Bowing softly, Miss Sarah left the dining hall to fetch the apple pies she made earlier. As he cut into his dinner, Reaver got the overwhelming feeling that he wasn't alone in the room. "Hatch, that had better be you." He announced, turning back to his dinner.

Miss Sarah walked back up with a tray of various side items and cutlery. She went back downstairs and came back up with a tray containing three apple pies. "Well, even if he is late, he can have some apple pie." She said softly, placing the pies on the table. She stood back up but didn't see the shadowy figure behind her, glaring evilly. Reaver raised an eyebrow as he put his fork to his lips. "Is something wrong, Sir?" she asked. Reaver's eye twitched as the figure was about to grab Miss Sarah.

"Miss Sarah! Watch out!" yelled Barry, from the doorway. Cocking a clockwork rifle, Barry shot just above Miss Sarah and missed both her and the figure. Diving down, Miss Sarah shielded herself with a tray as the chaos ensued. "Get her!" yelled Barry again, as the other servants chased the Girl in Pink all over the dining room. Gun shots rang throughout the dining hall as Barry and the others chased the girl around. Reaver sat still, not even acknowledging the chase or his dinner.

Rosie grabbed Reaver's knife and slashed at the girl, who screamed and jumped over the table. Beryl dove for the girl, but landed on a flower arrangement instead. She grabbed the vase the flowers were held in and threw it, almost clocking the girl in the head. The girl grabbed one of the side items and threw it at Gordon, who dodged each one and tried to grab her. "Nothing can come between our love!" the girl shouted, as she ran for Reaver, who still hadn't moved an inch.

Willa, who had finally been released from the hall closet, grabbed the girl from behind and lifted her up. "Gotcha!" she declared happily, only to get attacked by the cat.

Rounding past the table, Barry shot at the girl a few more times as Gordon threw cutlery in the same direction. Barry's rifle sounded off loudly as food and other objects flew about the dining hall. The commotion was so loud; the guard up the hill from the manor could hear it from his post.

Screaming bloody murder as the cat attached itself to her hair, Willa let go of the girl, who made another mad dash for Reaver. Rosie picked up an apple pie and threw it, but didn't know if it got the girl or not. She picked up another one and was about to toss it when a gong-like sound stopped everything. Miss Sarah had gotten up and smacked the girl in the face with the tray she was shielding herself with. She fell with a thud.

Reaver stood slowly, cutlery and bullet holes adorning his hat and apple pie sliding down his face. They didn't need him to wipe his face off to see how mad he was. "Everyone, straight line in front of me NOW!" he commanded, as everyone stood in attention in a straight line.

Wiping his face off with a handkerchief, Reaver took off his hat and placed it on the table. He looked the angriest at Barry, who was still holding the rifle. "Hatch, I didn't ask for much today, except a little peace and quiet while I finished up my paperwork. By no means is that a hard request, but somehow, everyone seemed to make it the most difficult thing imaginable! Now tell me, dearest Barry, why are you holding a rifle and why didn't you tell me Benjamina was here?!" he screamed. He didn't give Barry a chance to answer; he just smacked him on the back of the head.

"JUST LOOK AT THIS MESS!" he screamed, pointing to the chaos. Miss Sarah was already on the floor, picking up remnants of plates and other things. A loud knock on the front door could be heard by all. "Miss Sarah, get up and see who that is. I don't want you to hear what I am about to say." Miss Sarah nodded and left the dining hall.

Miss Sarah answered the door and found a guard standing in attention. "Evening, Ma'am. We heard quite a ruckus coming from over here, is everything alright?" he asked as he walked into the home. Miss Sarah didn't have a chance to answer when she heard Reaver yelling loudly. Miss Sarah blushed at some of the things said. "Wow, I haven't that kind of language since basic training." said the guard, blushing himself. Miss Sarah, joined by the guard, ran up to the dining hall, where everyone stood, amazed and shocked.

Reaver looked over and saw the guard. "Oh, hello Private Martin, I believe you know Benjamina." He said, pointing to the unconscious girl by the end of the dining table.

The guard nodded. "Ahh…I figured she was the cause of all this. Luckily, I got the cart parked out front."

Everyone saw Private Martin off as Benjamina regained consciousness and found herself in shackled. "My beloved Reaver! One day you will come for me!" she screamed as the cart left the estate.

"Not likely." Reaver muttered, as everyone shuffled back into the house. Still mad, Reaver looked down at his servants. He picked the small cat off Willa's head and gave it to Miss Sarah to hold. "I am not going to punish you all too severely, seeing as you were fighting to protect Me." said Reaver, with an air of pomposity about the statement. "However, the dining room is a mess, and my dinner is ruined. Miss Sarah, you may go to bed now, if you wish. The rest of you…START CLEANING NOW!" he yelled, stomping away. "Hatch! You're not off the hook for this! I want to see you in my office later when you're done helping them!" he yelled again, from the hallway. They could all hear his bedroom doors slam.

After hours of scrubbing and mopping and sweeping, the servants drudged their way to their bedrooms. The hour was late, and Barry sat at the end of the dining room table, trying to avoid going into Reaver's office. He knew he'd be getting the whip tonight and sighed softly. Not to mention he was hungry and dinner had to be mopped off the walls.

"Mr. Hatch?" chirped Miss Sarah, walking up to him, holding a pie and two plates. "Are you hungry? It's a little cold, but it was spared from the devastation of tonight's little 'escapade'." She placed the plates and the pie down.

"I am quite famished, Miss Sarah, but you don't have to stay up on my account." He said, with a blush. His growling stomach diminished his argument.

"Oh, I don't mind. I actually wanted to thank you." She said, sitting down next to Barry, and cutting a slice to put on a plate. "If you hadn't shot the rifle when you did, Benjamina would have grabbed me and done who knows what to me. I am very grateful." She said, as she cut a piece for herself.

Feeling a bit brave, despite having a crooked shot with a rifle, Barry puffed out his chest and smiled. "Oh, it was nothing, Miss Sarah. Anything to protect you…" he blushed softly, realizing what he just said. "…and everyone else, especially Master Reaver." He saved, and he picked up a fork.

With a blush, Miss Sarah nodded and cut into her piece with her fork. "I would have brought up some whipped cream, but the little bit I did make was used to fend of Benjamina." She giggled.

Barry felt very comfortable sitting and talking to Miss Sarah. She always had a smile on her face, no matter how chaotic things got around the manor. Barry smiled and looked up from his piece of cold pie at Miss Sarah, who smiled right back. "Oh, Miss Sarah, did I ever tell you about the time I…" his story off, Miss Sarah listened attentively, both of them happily eating their dessert.

* * *

><p>Eating the slice of pie that didn't make it on his face, Reaver sat in his office, thumping his pen on his journal. The slice of pie was his dinner, but it was delicious, so he didn't mind. He filled the ink well and began writing:<p>

"_If being swamped by paperwork wasn't bad enough, I was nearly killed tonight by flying dinner apparatuses. My entire dinner had to be scrubbed off my beautiful walls. And why, my beloved journal? Because of Benjamina. Yes, I regret to say she is back and though flattering, her presence around here is not healthy for us; be it me, the servants, or her. Hopefully the guards will do something about her this time. How many times does one craved young woman have to break into my house before she's carted away for good?"_

He refilled his pen and started writing again. He felt the cat rub against his leg and purr. "I must remember to return this cat to her parents, or whoever it is she lives with." He murmured.

"_Though their actions were noble, I was forced to punish the servants for what happened tonight. I don't want them to think they can start food fights whenever they please. Ahh can't be too soft with them, now can I? I will have Barry in here soon to give him his punishment…and what of the lovely Miss Sarah, you ask? She was probably the only one not running around like a crazy person tonight. I must say, the pie she made is quite delicious…of course, I wouldn't mind having a nibble at her pie, if you catch my drift."_

Reaver closed his journal just as Barry was walking in. "You…you wanted to see me, Master Reaver?" he asked, nervously. With a devilish grin and a skip in his step, Reaver reached under his desk and pulled out a whip. He slapped the whip handle on his gloved hand softly.

"Hatch, I'm not going to lie to you…you won't like this one bit…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha once again, everyone! Luna Peachie here, of course! Not going to lie, I had a bit of trouble writing this one. I don't know, I guess the idea sounded good in my head, but in the end, I felt like I kind of forced it. After editing, I was much happier, though. Ha-ha, always fun, with the editing. Stick around for my next installment; it's a real "howl" of a treat! (sorry)<strong>

**Again, thank you everyone for your reviews. I appreciate them very much (they feed my soul lol just kidding). Keep reviewing and I'll keep the insanity going!**

**Reaver and Barry and Benjamina belong to Lionhead, of course.**


	4. The Legend of the Red Balverine

_Reaver's Servants_

The Legend of the Red Balverine

"_I've traveled the world, waged war against the dead, fought next to the Queen in the Battle for Albion, fought Darkness Incarnate itself and done just about everything imaginable in between. But, a new calling forced me to come back to our fair kingdom. Most make it sound more like a sport, but to some, like me, it's a steady, and well paying, job. It's dangerous, and not many survive. But, the longer you have this job, the more people pay you to do it. A lesser educated man might call me an exterminator, but in truth, I'm so much more than that. Oh, so much more. I'm Ben Finn, Balverine Hunter."_

"Mr. Finn, who are you talking to?" asked the bar maid, as she refilled the man's mug.

Ben looked up at the bar maid and smiled nervously as she finished. "Just practicing the introduction to my newest book, Carla. I'm going to call it 'Memoirs of a Balverine Hunter.'" He joked, taking up his newly refilled mug.

"People still paying you to hunt doggies?" asked Carla, placing her hand on her hip.

"Not doggies, Carla. Balverines. Much more dangerous than dogs." Ben took a chug from his mug and set it down hard.

Carla shook her head and picked up the gold Ben placed on the table for the drink. "Why are you here, anyway? Balverines don't take lunch breaks here." She joked, placing the gold in her pocket.

Ben chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I'm meeting with an informant who has information on a local legend."

"Local legend?" asked Carla.

"Yep. There have been rumors circulating that an orange balverine has been spotted around the entrance to Silverpines. Farmers and Nobles alike are scared to death of it." Ben took a flyer out of his knapsack and placed it in front on the table. "The local farmers can't do anything with their lands, because something keeps killing their livestock, not to mention their farmhands."

"Still doesn't mean a mystical orange monster is killing anything. It could be a regular balverine." retorted Carla, sitting across from Ben.

"Ahh, but that's just it. It isn't 'some regular balverine'; farmers who have come out to chase the beast away reported a balverine bigger and lankier than ordinary balverines. Despite its lanky appearance, they say it's stronger than any balverine they've ever seen. They started calling it 'The Red Balverine'. Makes it sound more sinister, I guess." Ben fished up his mug and took another sip. "And the best part? The Nobles in Millfields are paying top gold to anyone who can kill it and show proof. And guess who they hired?" He added with an overconfident smile, pointing to the flyer.

Carla picked up the flyer and read it to herself. "Wow, I've never seen that many zeroes behind a five." She said, in amazement. "So, why hasn't anyone picked up the reward yet?" she asked.

"Everyone who has tried going after it either got too scared or got eaten. One man shot at it, got it in the hand, only to be mauled to pieces less than a minute later, according to his overly friendly widow. But you're looking at a man who laughs in the face of balverines." joked Ben.

"Well, you've certainly helped a few farmers get rid of their balverine problem. As long as you promise to share the wealth with me, I'll promise not to laugh at you when you come back missing an arm." laughed Carla, as she got up to finish her shift.

"You and Me, Carla! We'll travel the world!" Ben laughed, finishing his drink.

_A few days later, at Reaver's Manor_

Barry wasn't sure why he had been getting strange headaches as of late. He shrugged it off and tried to go about his duties as best he could. "Hatch! Get in here!" yelled Reaver, from his bedroom. Barry sighed softly to himself and walked the short distance from where he was to Reaver's bedroom. Reaver, having come down with a small cold, blew his nose loudly into his handkerchief as Barry entered the room.

"Yes, Master Reaver?" he asked, somewhat dejected.

"Don't look at me like that! I'm dying!" Reaver whined, as he fell back into his pillows hard.

"You have hay fever, Master Reaver. You'll be fine in a few days. No need to be dramatic." said Barry.

Barry barely dodged the glass of juice being thrown at him. "Go find out what is taking Miss Sarah so damn long with that soup!" Reaver yelled, burying his face in a small pillow.

"She hasn't started it yet." answered Barry.

"And why not?" asked Reaver, as he sat up.

"Because I was on my way to tell her to start making it when you called me back in here!" argued Barry, as he started to leave. Reaver blinked a few times, his eyes somewhat watery from the cold. Barry, his boots stomping the floor hard, left Reaver's bedroom and made his way to the staircase leading to the foyer.

As he descended the staircase, he found Willa and Beryl talking over a piece of paper. "Balverine attacks?" he heard Beryl ask Willa.

"Yeah, that guard handed it to me this morning when I was cleaning the floors here in the foyer. Something about a balverine seen near the entrance to Silverpines recently." said Willa, showing the flyer to Beryl. "I wouldn't think much of it. The farmers out in Silverpines aren't exactly the brightest people. I mean, they farm in lands infested with Balverines. Balverines are quite normal there, aren't they?"

Willa was about to answer when Barry approached them. "Don't you two have something better to do than stand there and suck up air?" he asked, sternly. Barry walked past them in a huff. The girls watched with concern as Barry stomp past them. Lately, their boss's illness had put everyone in a bad mood, but it seemed to be hitting Barry the hardest.

"Poor Mr. Hatch. Ever since Mr. Reaver got sick, he's been running him ragged." cooed Beryl.

"Mr. Hatch has been in an especially bad mood since this morning." retorted Willa, placing the flyer on a nearby table.

Barry walked into the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was washing dishes. Barry relaxed a little, hearing Miss Sarah hum as she worked. "Miss Sarah, I hate to bother you, but Master Reaver could use some soup right about now." He said, leaning against the wall.

With a smile, Miss Sarah nodded. "It's not a bother at all. It's my job, after all." She giggled, as she walked to the big cabinet for a pot. "Does Mr. Reaver still believe he's dying?" Miss Sarah asked, placing the pot on the stove.

"Yes, he barely finished the breakfast you made him and he threw his orange juice at me." Barry answered, as he gathered up some utensils for her.

"Oh, Mr. Hatch, you sit down and rest for a bit. Mr. Reaver's been running you all over the place for days, you don't need to help me at all." said Miss Sarah, modestly. Barry sat down in a nearby chair and watched Miss Sarah meander about the kitchen. "Since Mr. Reaver hasn't been feeling well, why don't you pick tonight's dinner, Mr. Hatch?" asked Miss Sarah, as she poured water into the pot.

Barry blushed softly and leaned back in his chair. "I have been craving roast beef like it is an addiction lately, Miss Sarah." He joked softly.

With a smile, Miss Sarah nodded. "Alright, I'll make sure we have everything for roast beef." She said, happily. Barry sighed softly and watched as Miss Sarah collected everything she needed to make soup.

"Do you know any remedies for a severe headache, Miss Sarah?" Barry asked as he rubbed his forehead to the sounds of vegetable chopping.

Miss Sarah looked up from her chopping and thought for a moment. "I might have some more of that new relaxation tea I've been trying in the cupboard. As soon as I am done making the soup…"

Barry's eyes shot open when he heard a small shriek come from Miss Sarah. He got up and walked hastily to Miss Sarah, who was holding her hand close to her apron. He softly took her hand, with a deep blush, and saw the blood from a small cut on her palm.

After wrapping the cut, Barry sat with Miss Sarah, helping her calm down. "I'm not sure why, but lately I have been a bit jittery. I think I should lay off the tea a bit." She giggled, as she got back up. "I should finish Mr. Reaver's soup before he coughs himself into a coma." Miss Sarah nervously went back to making the soup, though her mind didn't seem to be into the task at hand. Barry noticed Miss Sarah had been acting strangely lately (though, strange was relative in the manor nowadays). Though her cooking wasn't affected, she seemed to be more distant; not just with the other servants, but with everyone.

Barry left Miss Sarah to her task and arrived in the foyer just as a knock came to the door. Opening it, Barry was met by a scruffy looking blonde man with a chiseled chin. "Good afternoon, Sir. I came by looking for the master of the house." He said, rocking on his ankles.

"Master Reaver is…indisposed at the moment. I'm his attendant, Barry Hatch. How can I help you?" Barry asked, folding his arms.

"Well, Mr. Hatch, I am going around the houses here in Millfields, gathering information." The man said, scratching the back of his head.

"On what?" asked Barry, inviting the man inside.

The scruffy man walked in slowly and took a look around before clearing his throat. "Well, first of all, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Ben Finn, I've been hired by some of your neighbors to take care of a certain problem in the area as of recently." He said, holding out his hand. Barry reluctantly shook it, gloved hand meeting the scruffy worn hand. Barry winced a bit, but Ben didn't notice.

_Tough grip_ Barry thought, as the handshake ended. "What kind of problem?" Barry asked, directing him to a nearby couch.

Ben sat down and took out a flyer. "I was hoping that since this house was close to the Silverpines entrance, you'd know something about an animal the locals have been calling 'The Red Balverine'."

Barry's right eye twitched a bit. "B…Balverine?" he asked, twiddling his thumbs.

Not noticing Barry's nervous behavior, Ben nodded and made himself comfortable on the plush couch. "Yes, a balverine. It's a strange one, though. Farmers have reported it was lankier than most balverines, but taller and stronger. And a different color as well. It might have a wound on its hand from where a farmer shot it, as well…"

Before Barry could say anything, Miss Sarah walked out of the kitchen, carrying a silver tray with a cover on it. The two men could smell the vegetable soup, despite the covering and it made their mouths water. "Mr. Hatch, the soup is ready." She said with a smile. Turning her head slightly, Miss Sarah nodded an acknowledgment to Ben. "Oh, hello there. I didn't know we were expecting company." She chirped softly.

Ben got up and bowed slowly. "Ben Finn, Balverine Hunter, at your service, Ma'am." He said, with a smile. Ben looked at Miss Sarah's hand. It was bandaged tightly, with little specks of blood here and there. "That's a nasty wound you got there, Ma'am." He said, softly. Miss Sarah ignored the comment, as she was deep in thought about something.

"Ben Finn? I've heard that name before…" Miss Sarah wondered, balancing the tray a bit.

Ben nodded softly, with an overconfident air about himself. "Ahh, I used to be one of our Queen's generals. I fought alongside her when the Darkness descended upon our great land. Before then, I was a Captain in the Royal Albion army, under Major Swift. But I decided the nomadic life was more my calling…"

"No, not that, though I have heard of your past…" Miss Sarah blinked a few times and it finally came to her. "Oh! Mr. Finn! You used to date my friend, Rosie!" she said, happily.

"Rosie? Rosie…Rosie…" by the way his eyes wondered, Barry and Miss Sarah could tell there have been plenty of "Rosie's" in Mr. Finn's life.

Barry decided to help him out a bit, if not to get him to leave sooner. "Tall, dark hair, kind of stoic expression? About twenty-four years of age? Spouts nonsense at random intervals?"

Something clicked inside Ben's head. "Rosie the Fortune Teller from that dodgy circus a few years back?" Ben looked a little panicked.

"Oh yes, she told me she went out with a 'Mr. Finn' from the army, but never really disclosed much else. She works here, too." said Miss Sarah, happily.

Looking a little scared, Ben backed toward the front door. "Well, it didn't end on good terms, but that was years ago! I doubt she would remember me." He said, as he nervously reached for the doorknob, not finding it. "But, if any of you have information for me, I'd appreciate it. Just come by the Inn in Bowerstone…"

It was at that time Rosie walked in from the study. She stopped and just stared at Ben. With a nervous smile, Ben waved to Rosie. Rosie's eyes began to glow an ominous color as she stomped toward door and shoved Ben out. "We're not interested in what you're selling!" she yelled as she slammed the door.

Rosie stomped away to finish her chores. "Rosie's eyes glow when she's mad?" whispered Barry to Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah shrugged and started up the stairs with the soup.

Ben decided it was best to just walk away. He walked along the lake and started to take note of everything that happened. "Why did she ignore her own wound? It looked too severe to treat like a paper cut…I think I might have to come back here later."

That evening, the servants sat at Reaver's bedside, candles lit, giving the room an ominous glow. "My dearest, most loyal servants…" he coughed.

"Mr. Reaver, I still believe you're overreacting. It's just allergies. We've been in here every night for the last week so you can give your 'last will and testament'." said Beryl, readjusting her glasses.

"Have you all no sympathy for the dying!?" whined Reaver, placing his arm over his eyes. "One of you, fluff my pillow…" he whined again.

With a sigh, Rosie walked up to the bed and fluffed his pillow. "You just have a pollen allergy, Mr. Reaver. Hay fever…it's not serious, or lethal by any means." She commented, as she placed the pillow behind his head. Reaver sat up, handkerchief ready, looking as if he was about to sneeze.

"_**Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"**_

Everyone stared at Reaver. "Was…was that a sneeze?" asked Gordon, coming up to the bed. Beryl placed her hand over her mouth as she laughed along with Rosie and Willa. Gordon slapped his knee and started laughing hard. "That is how you sneeze?" he couldn't control his laughter.

"That is the most adorable thing I've ever heard." giggled Miss Sarah, placing her hand over her mouth.

"_**Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"**_

Reaver sneezed again and blew his nose into his handkerchief as everyone (except Barry, who seemed to have something on his mind) laughed loudly. Reaver shuffled out of bed and reached for his robe. "It's not laughing matter, I feel horrible!" he put on his fancy bedroom robe and tied it tightly. "Barry, ready a bath for me. Maybe I can…" his face shriveled up as he got ready to sneeze again.

"_**Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"**_

Everyone left the room, laughing and giggling, except Barry, who sat still against the wall. "HATCH!" Reaver yelled. Barry shook himself out of his daydream and followed Reaver. Barry readied the big tub in Reaver's private bathing chamber. Bubbles and bathing oils all around, Barry helped Reaver undress and get in.

"I'll send Rosie in here with some fresh towels in a few minutes." murmured Barry, leaving the room.

Walking down the hall, Barry felt his head pounding. He ran down the hall to his bedroom and slammed the door. He ran to his dresser and looked in the mirror. He took off his right hand glove and took a look at his hand. His eye twitched again when he saw the bandage on his hand. "No..." he whispered to himself. "No, it's not a…it's…I cut myself on something around the house or…Master Reaver shot at me to keep me in line, yeah, that's it." he kept murmuring to himself as he put his glove back on.

He felt the room start to spin. The throbbing in his head got worse. Barry held his head and fainted on his bed.

Ben Finn stared into Bower Lake, trying to blend in with the scenery. "If I'm correct…" he told himself, going over notes he had been taking for the last couple nights. "…the 'Red Balverine' has been spotted around here getting a drink of water. So, if I wait here long enough, it should appear." He leaned against the tree trunk of the tree he was hiding in. The night was chilly, and he had forgotten to bring a jacket.

After a few hours of waiting and fighting off sleep, Ben heard a shuffle under the tree he was in. Forcing himself awake, Ben hid behind some branches waited. He didn't see a balverine, but he did see Miss Sarah, walking along the path. "Is that Reaver's cook?" he asked himself. "What is she doing out here so late?"

He watched her disappear up the path toward Bowerstone but couldn't see much else. "Certainly strange…" he said, as he wrote down something. "Maybe the Red Balverine has a day job..." he murmured, reaching into his knapsack for his spyglass.

Even with the spyglass, Ben couldn't see Miss Sarah anymore. "Damn, lost her." He sat back against the tree trunk again and closed his eyes in thought.

An hour or so of resting his eyes, Ben was awakened by a growling sound. He looked below his post, but saw nothing as he climbed down. "Must have been a dog…" he said, scratching his head. As he stopped scratching, he could hear heavy breathing behind him with a soft snarl. Turning his head slowly, Ben found himself staring into the eyes of the Red Balverine.

"Big doggie…" he whispered, reaching on his back for his rifle. The creature roared at him and knocked him down. Ben scooted along the ground, trying to reach his gun. The balverine grabbed his leg with its long, skinny fingers and started to drag struggling Ben toward the nearby wooded area. Ben kicked it's snout with his free leg, enabling it. As it roared in pain, Ben scurried to his rifle, but by the time he turned around, the creature was gone.

"Carla is going to owe me a few beers for this one." He said, picking himself up.

In the morning, Barry shuffled down the stairs, rubbing his head softly. He decided it was time to try that relaxation tea Miss Sarah recommended to him and to find an icepack, as his nose was sore for reasons he couldn't figure out. "I must be catching that pollen allergy." He reasoned.

As he approached the foyer, he saw all the servants and Reaver, listening to Ben Finn in front of an open door. Reaver, still sick, was wearing his fancy bedroom robe over his pajamas. A handkerchief over his mouth and nose, Reaver seemed to be arguing something with Ben.

"…one of my servants, a balverine?! That's preposterous!" he said, angrily. He then blew his nose into the handkerchief.

Ben waved his hands in front of him, trying to calm down the angry groans and scoffs. "I'm not accusing anyone of anything; I'm just saying I don't think the Red Balverine is fully a balverine. It might be a person in the day."

"Like a werewolf?" asked Willa, looking up at Beryl, a little worried.

"In a sense, yes. But this thing is dangerous, and it attacked me last night when I was staking out in a tree out front." said Ben.

"I'd like to know next time you perch yourself in my trees, Mr. Finn." remarked Reaver, before blowing his nose into his handkerchief.

Ignoring Reaver, Ben sighed and folded his arms, staring at the servants and their boss. "After I got away, attacks on three people in Silverpines were reported. Two of them died."

Rosie stood stoically and said nothing. Gordon, however, seemed very opinionated. "Well, with all due respect, Mr. Finn; you have no proof anyone here is up to anything out of the ordinary." He said, with a scowl. "Well, not too out of the ordinary." said Reaver, under his breath. He turned his head and noticed Barry standing behind them. "Oh, Barry, good thing you showed up when you did. Do you have any information for Mr. Finn before the other servants throw him out by the seat of his pants?" asked Reaver.

Barry rubbed the side of his head, and looked around at everyone. "No…no…" he said, as he approached the rest of the group.

Reaver glared back to Ben, his patience obviously running dry. "Well, Mr. Finn, there you have it. I advise you to leave before my…" his face shriveled up again to sneeze.

"_**Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"**_

Sputtering his chuckle at first, Ben burst into loud laughter. "What the bloody hell was that?" he laughed.

Reaver wiped his nose with his handkerchief and reached for his gun. "Get out, now!" Ben left, still laughing. Reaver fumed a bit as he watched the servants (Barry included, as the sneezes put him in better spirits) snickered and giggled at Reaver's sneezes. "Get back to work before I start shooting." The servants (save for Barry) scattered.

"Hatch, follow me. We have something to discuss. It can't wait." said Reaver, walking up the stairs.

"Sir, the city clerk won't accept anymore 'Last Will and Testaments' from you. He said if you're going to waste paper…" remarked Barry, following Reaver.

"No, not that. It's about the night I revived you…I believe there was an unprecedented side-effect I probably should have listened to the lender about." Reaver wiped his nose again. Barry cocked an eyebrow and followed Reaver closely.

Miss Sarah set the table in silence. Usually she'd be busy in the kitchen making breakfast, but something has been distracting her. Rosie walked in with the napkins. "Miss Sarah, are you going to be alright?" asked Rosie, apparently knowing what had her friend in a sour mood as of late.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?" asked Miss Sarah.

"Well, for one, you're placing a place at the table for our boss, who's been sick in bed for days. Also, you put down two dessert spoons, a melon baller, and relish fork. And there is no plate…or placemat." said Rosie, matter-of-factly.

Looking at her "handy work", Miss Sarah blushed and started to pick up everything she sat down. Rosie sighed softly and put her hand on Miss Sarah's shoulder. "It's been a few years, but I understand why you still mourn. But you don't have to mourn alone."

With a heart-heavy sigh, Miss Sarah looked up at Rosie and smiled. "Thank you. I guess you know I've been sneaking out to the graveyard on the hill." She said, as she put down a plate.

"You go finish breakfast before Mr. Reaver comes back." Rosie got started on finishing what Miss Sarah started as she made her way to the kitchen.

"What do you mean 'cursed'?!" yelled Barry, as Reaver sat back on his bed.

"Well, I spoke to the lender a few days ago, when you started complaining of headaches and he suggested I start making you drink this around every full moon." Reaver reached into his bedside table drawers and took out an ornate box. Opening it, he handed Barry a small sack. "It's some kind of special tea. I was going to sell it because…come on, cursed statue?" Reaver laughed until he coughed softly. Barry sniffed the small bag and noted it smelt like mint. "It's rare and expensive, so…well, first time's always free." Reaver sang as he started lying down.

Barry didn't know what to make of what he was just told. "You…you ignored something as important as 'cursed' when borrowing an ancient statue!?" panicked Barry.

"Now, now, Hatch, no need to get defensive. Call it a…slight misstep." Reaver blew his nose and laid his head back on his pillow. "Now, take the box and read the instructions inside carefully and see if my breakfast is on its way up."

Holding the box out in front of him, Barry toted it to his room, where he placed it on his dresser. "Years of loyal service and he just 'forgets' to tell me I'm probably cursed…" he murmured to himself. "He didn't explain with what, though…oh well." He shrugged and left the box on his dresser. Leaving his room, he almost bumped into Rosie, carrying a food tray. "Oh, sorry Rosie, I didn't see you there." said Barry, catching the tray.

"Well, try to watch out, Mr. Hatch. I don't want to have Miss Sarah make another plate. She's…not herself lately and we'll leave it at that." said Rosie, passing by.

Barry just stood there, not sure of what to make of what Rosie just said. The rest of the day, Barry avoided the other servants, including Miss Sarah. The evening rolled around, and finally bedtime.

That night, everyone seemed restless. Servants and Master were tossing in their sleep, trying to be comfortable. Reaver's manor seemed to be a symphony of sheets being thrown and bed springs creaking (and it wasn't even one of Reaver's famous after parties). Barry, still in his uniform, walked down to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich to eat with the tea Reaver had given him. He thought it strange when he saw the front door close.

Opening the front door, Barry watched Miss Sarah leave the estate and walk along the path, wearing a shawl around her shoulders. Fearing for her safety, he followed her, but kept his distance. _That trigger happy maniac, Finn, might be out tonight_ he thought.

As if in a trance, Miss Sarah walked up to the graveyard overlooking the lake and knelt down at a grave. Weeds had overgrown on the gravestone, but she knew who it was. She sighed softly as she placed her hand on the headstone. "I know you're there, Mr. Hatch…why did you follow me?" she asked, turning her head slightly.

Barry came from behind a tree and walked up to her, solemnly. "Rosie said you haven't been yourself lately. Is this where you've been disappearing to for the last couple of nights?" he asked.

Miss Sarah nodded softly as she pulled her shawl closer over her shoulders. "This is the grave of my former intended." She whispered softly, as the wind picked up.

Barry blushed and became nervous. "Former intended?" he asked his heart a bit sunk. Miss Sarah nodded.

"Years ago, before I began travelling with the circus, I was to be married to a soldier; one of those purple clad elites. He used to tell me about the brutal training the former king, Logan, used to put him and his peers under. He was one of the best, and though no one thought very highly of the elites, I knew he still had his heart. He was sent overseas with King Logan on some expedition. He never made it back. King Logan commissioned graves be set for the men lost on that expedition, despite none of the bodies being returned. Tonight marks the anniversary of when he asked me to marry him. It was years ago, but I still mourn him as if he died yesterday. I joined up with the circus to escape my parents; they were trying to marry me off so soon after he died. It was there I met Rosie, then Gordon and Beryl, and of course, Willa. As we traveled together, the pain of him dying eased a bit, but I always felt he was never happy with anyone I became…'interested' in. But lately, for the first time since his death, I feel that he is happy and at peace and I feel at peace too…"

"Why do you think that?" asked Barry, as the soft wind blew his orange hair about.

"Because he knows…I'm happy again…" Miss Sarah smiled with a blush, which Barry returned.

"Miss Sarah, may I escort you back?" he asked, offering his arm. With a soft blush and a smile, Miss Sarah took Barry's arm and they happily walked down the path together.

As they reached the gate of Reaver's estate, they both heard a gun cock. "Mr. Hatch, don't move." said Ben, as he slowly stepped closer to them.

Both Barry and Miss Sarah put their arms in the air. "What is the meaning of this?" snapped Barry, as Ben slowly approached Miss Sarah.

"I believe I found my red balverine." He said as he placed the barrel of his rifle to Miss Sarah's back.

"Are you completely insane? Miss Sarah isn't a balverine!" yelled Barry as he turned around to face Ben. His head started to hurt at that point. _What a time to get a headache_ he thought.

The full moon revealed itself from behind the late night clouds. Something very bad was about to happen…

"It's always the dolled up, innocent types that cause the most trouble." said Ben, as he pushed his gun into Miss Sarah's back. "I got a campsite up the hill. I'll keep her in there until morning, see if she turns." He directed Miss Sarah along the path. "I won't hurt you, Miss. I just think you wondering around on nights of attacks and how you simply blow off the wound on your hand like nothing is a bit suspicious."

Before they could make it past the gate, Ben heard a roar behind him. It was a familiar roar, and it gave him a chill down his spine. Miss Sarah turned her head and screamed loudly.

Everyone in the manor woke up, including Reaver. Everyone, still dressed in their pajamas, ran to the foyer in a panic. Reaver, in his bedroom robe and plush slippers, slowly came down the stairs. Even when sick and just getting out of bed, Reaver had to be the best looking person in the room. He held a handkerchief up to his nose and whipped it softly. "Which one of you screamed and woke me up?" asked Reaver, his voice sounding stuffier than it had been lately.

"It sounded like Miss Sarah." said Willa. "But she's…" Willa looked among the crowd. "Where is Miss Sarah? And Mr. Hatch?"

Everyone ran outside and found Ben lying on the ground near the gate. He was alive, but badly injured. "Sleeping on the job? My neighbors will not like it when I tell them about this." said Reaver, jovially through his handkerchief.

Ben got up slowly and rubbed his head. "I don't know what that thing did with Mr. Hatch, but it knocked me down and ran off into Silverpines with your cook." said Ben, leaning against the gate.

"How inconvenient!" Reaver shouted, into his handkerchief. "Where am I going to find a new attendant and cook at this hour?"

Hoping he was joking (he probably wasn't), the other servants ran into the garden and came back with garden tools. "We've got to go after her!" yelled Gordon, holding up his garden hoe. Armed with garden tools, the servants ran up the path toward Silverpines.

Reaver pulled out his gun (which he brought out with him just in case) and smiled. "Sick or not, I love a good scruff! It's good for the blood!" Reaver laughed maniacally and ran after his servants. "Wait for me!"

Ben scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "Ehh, what the hell…" he took out his rifle and followed the group into the woods.

_In the Woods_

Silverpines was foggy and dense and the group huddled together as Ben and Reaver led the way. "From the reports, villagers believe it lives around the graveyard. He may have made a burrow around that area. Stay close and keep quiet, other balverines might be in the area."

The group seemed uninspired when picking out their weapons. While Gordon had a garden hoe, Beryl had hedge clippers, Rosie carried a shovel, and Willa picked up a steel watering can. "What are you going to do with a watering can, Willa? Overwater it to death?" whispered Rosie.

"Keep it down!" snapped Reaver, holding up his gun. "If I don't shoot a balverine, I will make up for it by shooting loud servants!"

Ben made the signal for the group to stop. He stopped at a tree that had claw marks on it. "They're fresh. He's been in this direction, that much we know." He noted.

Willa looked around the area and found a small shoe. "They were here! This is Miss Sarah's shoe." She shouted as she ran to pick up the shoe.

Looking around, Ben made sure the area was clear. "Stay quiet! We don't want to rouse any other balverines…" Ben shouted, in a hush voice. He spoke too soon as a horrified look took over his face and the faces of the servants as well.

Willa stayed frozen in her bent over position. Her short nightgown revealed her panties to everyone. "Oh, how cute! Frilly and pink, just what I expect from Willa…" joked Reaver. He stopped laughing long enough to look up and see a balverine staring down at Willa. It wasn't the one they were after, but it was scary nonetheless.

"Stay still, Miss. I am going to try and off him before he attacks. Don't make any sudden movements or sounds." said Ben, holding up his rifle. Willa shook nervously as the balverine sniffed her. Flashing its teeth at Willa, she could smell its breath.

"Oh, this is taking too long!" said Reaver, aiming his Dragonstomper. One shot between the eyes and it was down.

The group ran to Willa, who was clutching the shoe tightly. "Its breath was like rancid meat…" she said, as she shook. "I think I may have had an accident, too…" she whined, as Rosie helped her along.

Deeper into the forest they trudged, as Reaver looked at his pocket watch. "The sun should be coming up in a few hours. Don't they sleep during the day?" he asked, closing his pocket watch and placing it back in his robe pocket.

Ben didn't answer; he just held his rifle close and pointed it. "There he is…" he motioned.

The Red Balverine seemed to be digging for something, but when it saw the group, it didn't attack. It darted away. "What the…it's running away?" Ben, shocked and somewhat disappointed, waved at the group to follow him, as he ran through the brush after the balverine.

Trudging through mud and damp grass, the group followed it to the graveyard, which was overcome with fog. "How befitting a chase scene through a monster-infested forest." said Reaver, as they stepped into the fog.

Beryl, holding her hedge clippers close to her chest, shook nervously as they climbed the hill toward the bigger headstones. "W-where did it go?" she asked, but got no answer. The fog had separated her from the group. "Oh no…" she whimpered, trying not to move. The fog was too dense for her to see anyone.

"Beryl?" she heard Rosie yell. "Where are you?"

Beryl looked around at a grave, which was right beside a statue. "I'm next to…I think it's a weeping angel statue." She yelled into the fog.

"Stay there, and don't move, Miss! One of us is coming back for you! It's very important that you don't panic!" yelled Ben.

"Beryl, not panic? You might as well ask for the moon!" said Reaver, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Alright, Gordon, go get her."

"Me? Why me?" Gordon asked.

"Because if I have to replace three servants because you didn't want to go back for one, you'll regret it! Now MOVE!" shouted Reaver, as it sounded like he was shoving Gordon toward Beryl's direction.

She could hear footsteps behind her, and footsteps in front of her. The ones behind her sounded louder and were accompanied by a low growl. _"Ne pas me manger! Ne pas me manger!"_ screamed Beryl, as she lunged behind her with the (closed) hedge clippers.

Before she would do anything, Gordon caught her wrist. "Nothing's going to eat you. Now, follow me." He held her wrist tightly as he led her back to the group.

"_C'était derrière moi. Mais c'est la présence feutre familière."_ whined Beryl, as she made her way back to the group with Gordon.

"She said it was behind her, but its presence felt familiar." said Reaver, whipping his nose again.

"Maybe it wasn't the creature…maybe it was Miss Sarah." said Rosie.

Ben scratched his chin and thought for a second. "Well, maybe she managed to escape it and has been meandering around the forest looking for help. Either way, we won't know for sure until we catch the balverine that took her." He motioned for the group to keep moving.

After an hour or so of walking, the group spotted the Red Balverine, making its way into a small cavern. "We found its home. Now, he's been active tonight, so he'll probably leave again or go to sleep. But since waiting isn't this group's style, obviously, we might be able to storm the cavern and catch it off guard." whispered Ben, as they knelt down behind a large rock. "It is very important that we stay low and keep quiet, as not to arouse the other balverines in the area." Everyone nodded in agreement, except Reaver, whose face shriveled up to sneeze again.

"_**Ahh…Ahh…AHHHH…choi…"**_

The group hid their attempts to keep from laughing, but stopped immediately when they caught the attention of not one, but three balverines, who seemed to be stalking in a nearby tree. "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" yelled Ben, as they jumped from their hiding spot and ran for the cave. Reaching the cave, they noticed the other balverines stopped just short of the entrance and did nothing.

"Odd…they must fear the Red Balverine." whispered Rosie, as everyone caught their breath.

"Not surprising, it is stronger and a little larger than the other ones." said Ben, getting up from leaning against the cavern walls.

Everyone heard humming from deep in the cavern. "That's Miss Sarah!" shouted Willa, happily. Ben took his oil lamp from his knapsack and lit it up. He waved to the group to follow close as they made their way deep into the cavern.

Reaching the end of the cavern, they found Miss Sarah, sitting on a stack of hay, humming softly. "Miss Sarah!" the servants yelled, running to her. Miss Sarah looked at them and smiled softly. "Shhh…" she put her index finger over her lips. "You'll wake him…" she said, softly.

"Wake who?" asked Reaver, stepping over a few rocks. She pointed to the corner of the cavern, where Barry laid, shivering. His clothes were tattered and his top half was covered only by Miss Sarah's shawl.

"I fainted when that thing attacked us by Mr. Reaver's front gate, and when I woke up, I was here. I found Mr. Hatch not too long ago. I think he's badly hurt. That thing must have grabbed him, too." chirped Miss Sarah.

Barry's clothes were torn, and he had many scratches on him. "We need to get him back to the manor, or he'll die of exposure from those wounds." said Ben, walking with Gordon to help Barry up.

"Are you alright, Miss Sarah?" asked Rosie, helping her up from the hay.

"Yes, I'm fine. He must have been saving me for dessert or something, because it looks like he went to town on Mr. Hatch." whispered Miss Sarah, as everyone made their way out of the cavern.

_Funny...we followed it in here...but where did it go?_ Was the thought on everyone's (except Reaver's) minds.

_A few days later, at Reaver's Manor_

"He's still sleeping, but other than a few scrapes, he should be fine. The doctor was amazed he survived an attack that severe from a balverine." said Rosie, walking with Ben to the front gate. Ben had come back to check on Miss Sarah and Barry after a few more days of stalking around Silverpines. "Of course, Mr. Reaver is taking the doctor's visit out of Mr. Hatch's pay." Rosie added, as she and Ben arrived at the front gate.

With a smile, Ben nodded to Rosie. "So, how about you then, Rosie? No hard feelings between us?" he asked. Rosie, not one to show much emotion, sighed and nodded.

"No hard feelings, Mr. Finn." She said, with a snide smile.

"Then how about a kiss on the cheek, for old times' sake?" he joked, pointing to his cheek. Leaving with a bruise on his cheek from Rosie's fist, Ben rubbed his cheek with a smile and set off on his next adventure. "She still has a mean right hook." He smiled, as he made his way up the path.

Inside the manor, Barry woke up softly and saw Reaver sitting in a chair next to his bed. He looked like he was feeling better, but couldn't say the same for Barry. "I'm going to assume you know of your 'affliction' now." said Reaver, one leg over the other, hands in his lap. Barry nodded and rubbed his head. "The lender told me the tea won't cure you. Nothing will. But it can keep your 'wild side' under control during the full moons. You might even be able to train yourself to turn into that thing at will. Which would come in handy, should someone come after your beloved Miss Sarah again." He laughed, loving any joke at Barry's expense, and got up.

Barry blushed and sat up. "Miss Sarah and I are only friends, Master Reaver. We've been over this. I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the other servants about this." He tried not to move too much, as his injuries were severe. Reaver got up and started to leave the room.

"Trust me; I have nothing to gain from telling them about your affliction." Barry could tell he was lying, but decided let it be.

Turning the door handle and opening the door, Reaver slowly looked back at Barry. "Hatch, you'll be incapacitated for a few more days, so be ready for a cart load of unfinished work when you get better. Rest up and get well soon!" sang Reaver, closing the door behind him.

Sitting up, Barry looked over at his bedside drawers and saw a wrapped gift. He picked up the card and read it to himself.

"_Mr. Reaver said you'd like this._

_Get well soon, Mr. Hatch!_

_Love, Sarah, Rosie, Beryl, Willa, and Gordon"_

With a smile, he opened the gift and found a book. "Hobbes of the World." He read from the title. Feeling warmth in his chest, and not just from his bandages, Barry happily opened the book and started to read. He'd have plenty of time to finish it.

* * *

><p>The candlelight danced with the shadows of Reaver's office. He looked out the window at the crescent moon overlooking the lake below. "A fine night…" Reaver whispered, sipping his chalice of wine. In the distance, he heard a symphony of howls and though it sent shivers up his spine, he felt oddly comforted as well. He filled his pen from the inkwell and began writing.<p>

"_Barry took quite a dealing from some balverines while he was in his 'Wild State' I should call it. The doctor says he won't be able to do anything for a few more days. That's perfectly fine; I could use a break from him anyway. As an apology for having us come all the way out to 'save' her, Miss Sarah will be making her special ravioli tomorrow night. She should get kidnapped more often, if it means she makes something so delicious each time."_

Reaver set the ink pen down when he looked over in the corner, seeing the silhouette of the cat in a basket. "Why is that girl's cat still here?" he asked himself softly. He shrugged and started writing again.

"_The month is almost up. The servants, despite a few misgivings, are doing well for the most part. As soon as Barry is up and about again, I will have him prepare for a party…a very special party…"_

Closing his journal, Reaver stood up and walked to his window and listened to the howling in the distance. "Lovely ambiance, wouldn't you say?" he said to the cat, as it yawned and went back to sleep. "Now, don't you get used to living here. It's not that easy around here."

Blowing out the candle, Reaver made his way out of his office. He smiled sinisterly. "Let the hazing ritual begin…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! So, did you like this week's installment? It was a little bit too serious for my tastes, but it just screamed to be told ha-ha. Well, I assumed you all knew Barry was the "Red Balverine" from the start, as I'm not good at being cryptic.<strong>

**It's mostly based on a fan theory I keep hearing about our beloved Mr. Hatch. One being that he didn't die the night of Reaver's party, but survived and can now change into a balverine. Well, I decided to go somewhere along the lines of that, if you remember the statue from the first story.**

**I actually at first didn't want to add Ben Finn, but I figured he fit well as the Han Solo type and I didn't want to make up any more new characters at the moment. Anyway, you might see him in a later installment, I haven't decided yet. But, as you can tell by the last part, you'll definitely be seeing more of Benjamina's cat, Reaver, Jr. Or "Reavie" as the servants will start calling her. And it looks like we'll be starting to get to know the servants a little better, too!**

**Oh, the "trial period" is almost up for the servants; which means it's time to see if they really have what it takes to work for Reaver. The series is not over yet, oh, not by a long shot. The next installment may take me a little while, but I promise you won't be disappointed.**

**As always, review and be merry!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Ben Finn belong to Lionhead.**


	5. Pledge Week

_Reaver's Servants_

Pledge Week

The sun hadn't yet risen over Bower Lake when the servants within Lakeview Manor were roused from their sleep by a loud siren-like sound. Each one jumped from their bed in fright and ran to the hallway. Each covering their ears, the disheveled servants rushed through the house and down to the foyer, finding the front door wide open. Running outside, they found their boss and his assistant (who was still somewhat asleep) waiting outside.

With a big goofy smile on his face, Reaver turned off the device and smiled jovially at his servants. "Well, good morning, my lovelies! Nice of you to join us this fine morning." Reaver looked at the group, still in their night clothes, and gave another devilish smile as he walked in front of them.

"Well, it certainly has been a long spring season, hasn't it? And summer is just about upon us! Which means your trial period is up as of the end of this week. However, to prove to me that you can work for me as full-fledged Reaver Industries employees, I have devised a week of fun activities in a sort of 'trust building' scenario." Reaver announced, not noticing his tired, shivering servants.

Looking among them, night clothes and bed head on all of them, he gave a little chuckle. "Now, now, my doves look more enthusiastic. Great rewards await you should you pass each exercise." He added, leaning against the device. Each servant glared at him.

"What kind of rewards, Mr. Reaver?" asked Willa, shivering in her short nightgown.

"Well, Little Bit; if I tell you, then it wouldn't be much of a surprise now would it?" Reaver said, jovially.

"Mr. Reaver, with all due respect, the sun isn't even up." Miss Sarah yawned, in her long sleeve knee length nightgown. She was probably the only one among the servants who was semi-comfortable at the moment.

"Well, that is the first part of today's exercise, my dear Miss Sarah. To show you can be ready for anything at a moment's notice, you have to be up and ready whenever I need you. And you all passed with flying colors!" Reaver clapped happily, with Barry joining along, though still somewhat tired himself. "But this is just the first part of the day! Go inside and get dressed, and be out here in ten minutes…" Reaver pulled out his pocket watch and opened it. "I will be timing you. GO!"

The servants ran inside as fast as they could. "Let the hazing ritual begin, Mr. Hatch!" said Reaver, jovially to his semi-awake attendant. Barry was snoring softly while leaning against the device. "The thought of them running around, trying their hardest to prove they need these jobs brings a warm feeling into my gut. Oooh! I am excited! Are you excited, Barry?" Reaver looked over to Barry, who slid off the device and fell to the ground, snoring. Not really noticing his passed out attendant, Reaver smiled at the rising sun.

_Day One: Alertness_

Each servant dressed in their uniforms and more awake now, Reaver smiled evilly as he held a whistle in his hand. "Now, this test isn't too hard. In fact, with all the activities I have planned this week, it might be the easiest. Today I will be testing your alertness. On any given day, I might need you at a moment's notice for anything, be it an emergency or…my own amusement." He chuckled.

He blew into the whistle loudly and each servant stood in attention. "Good. You know what a whistle is. Now, today you will go about your chores as usual. However, whenever I blow this whistle, you must come find me. I might be somewhere in the house or anywhere outside in the Bower Lake area. I will blow the whistle only three times. Should you not get to me within three whistles, you fail. And trust me…you don't want to know what happens when you fail a test…"

Looking worriedly at each other, the servants dispersed when Reaver dismissed them. Barry, who had been standing next to Reaver, looked up at his boss. "If I may, I still think you are underestimating them, Master Reaver. In the last season they've shown more initiative than anyone else you've ever hired; after me, of course."

Noting his attendant's concern, Reaver walked upstairs to his office, with Barry following behind, loyally. "Hatch; in the time I've been in this house, which is longer than you have been working for me, I've learned that even the best servants have their limits. To work for me, servants must go beyond their limits, even if it almost kills them; which you've proven many times."

Barry sighed and continued to follow his master. "I still think you're underestimating them…"

Reaver stopped dead in his tracks and tapped his walking stick on the floor. "Hatch, your concern for these circus rejects is very cute, but remember this very carefully; they are servants, they are humans. Though, sometimes I doubt Rosie is…"

The day went on without much interruption. The servants panicked whenever they thought they heard a whistle. Each time, it was either the guard at the guard booth up the hill or a tea kettle. Rosie set out Reaver's afternoon tea on a table near the dock. With Beryl helping her, Rosie finished faster than she usually did. "I still think these exercises are stupid." said Rosie, as she finished setting everything properly.

"I don't like it either, but we do need these jobs. And if it means having to jump through a few hoops, than we might as well ask how high." said Beryl, sounding a little defeated herself.

"You've been talking to Miss Sarah again, haven't you?" Rosie asked. Beryl nodded and walked toward the dock.

Both girls stopped talking when they heard a whistle. This time, they knew it was Reaver's whistle. "Where…where is it coming from?" asked Beryl. Rosie closed her eyes for a second and concentrated. Her eyes jerked open and she pointed towards the road to Bowerstone. Rosie ran, with Beryl following behind.

The other servants ran out of the house, searching eagerly for the whistle. "It's not coming from the study." shouted Willa, running up to Miss Sarah, who was already outside.

Gordon ran from the garden and toward them. "It has to be from outside, it sounds too loud to be from inside." said Gordon, catching his breath. As they looked around, they saw Rosie zoom by them, with Beryl hot on her tracks.

"Rosie's got it!" she yelled, as they all ran after Rosie.

Like a bloodhound, Rosie could sense where the sound came from, but had to stop every so often to reassess herself. It wasn't until they heard the second whistle that Rosie was back on the trail. "What in the Hell is that noise?" they heard some of the nobles shout, as they went about their daily walks. "It must be Reaver! I swear sometimes…" other nobles murmured, as the servants zoomed past.

They reached the monorail station just as the second whistle ended. With the servants at her heels, Rosie looked around sharply and tried to concentrate. Holding her breath and closing her eyes tight, Rosie concentrated and pointed to the top of the old mill building. "But that building is closed off! How did he get in there, and furthermore how do we get in there?" Willa shouted.

"He's not inside…he's on the roof." said Rosie, pointing upward. All of the servants pointed their gaze to the top of the building.

Cracking his knuckles, Gordon walked up to the side of the building. "Then leave it to Me." said Gordon, happily. Grabbing the side of the building, Gordon got his footing right and started climbing.

On top of the building, Reaver and Barry stood, waiting. "So, how did we get up here, again?" asked Barry, as Reaver looked at his pocket watch.

"No time for details, Hatch. They have one more whistle before…" he felt a hand grab his shoulder, which he didn't recognize as Barry's.

"Hello, Mr. Reaver. Rosie said it's time for tea." said Gordon, happily.

_Day Two: Speed_

Reaver, sitting in a chair with Barry standing next to him, watched as the servants stretched their limbs. "Yesterday proved you can be anywhere I need you, but today you will be tested on how fast you can get somewhere. In front of you are packages I need delivered to different parts of Bowerstone." said Reaver, pointing his cane at some small wrapped boxes in front of him. "Now, they are very important packages. No peeking!" said Reaver, taking out his pocket watch. "I will be timing all of you. Whoever gets back the fastest will receive a special prize. Please try not to take all day, as I do like to eat dinner on time." He pointed his gun into the air and fired once.

"GO!" he shouted, as the Dragonstomper sounded off.

Each servant picked up their packages and ran in the direction of Bowerstone. Willa was dead behind. "Aww, come on you guys! Wait up!" she whined, as she lagged behind.

At the entrance to Bowerstone, the servants split ways. Willa went directly toward Industrial, where her package was addressed to. "To the Orphanage!" she shouted, happily.

Rosie looked at her package. "To the…Queen?!" she said to herself, running toward the market. Miss Sarah and Gordon were apparently going to the same place and ran together. Beryl's curiosity got the better of her and she carefully opened her box. She didn't have a chance to scream.

"What is in those boxes, anyway, Master Reaver?" asked Barry, as he and Reaver waited.

Reaver took out his pocket watch again and stared at it. He closed it tightly and tucked it back in his pocket. "Trash, mostly. One has last night's dinner leftovers in it and another has shredded pieces of paper or pebbles, or both. I think one might have a pair of your old socks in it…oh, and one has beetles inside." he answered snidely.

Less than two hours later, each servant began returning, one by one. Willa came back first. She had what looked like leftovers on her head, and a dejected look. "Congratulations, Little Bit! You're the first back, despite being the last one out. Did the orphanage like my generous donation?" laughed Reaver, with Barry trying to keep his laughter down. "It seems they decided to share." Reaver kept laughing.

Willa grumbled and looked up at Reaver. "The orphanage director has a message for you." She motioned with her index finger for him to come closer. Reaver knelt down to Willa so she could whisper into Reaver's ear. "She said you can go…" What was whispered made him cringe. Willa took a step back when she was done whispering. "…twice over with a cactus."

"Well, she should come here and tell me that herself! We can act upon it accordingly." Reaver growled lustfully. Willa shook off the remaining leftovers and sat on one of the front steps as the other servants began returning.

Rosie was next, looking somewhat roughed up. She walked up to Reaver next and dropped an old pair of socks in front of him. "Well, the soldiers at the front gate of the castle don't like me very much right now." she said, stoically. "I told them the package was important, and they almost wrestled me to the ground as I tried to go in. They took the package from me and inside was an old smelly pair of men's socks." growled Rosie.

Trying not to laugh, Reaver picked up the socks and handed them to Barry. "Well, I guess I'm not invited to her next gala." He remarked, as Rosie went to go sit with Willa.

Next, Gordon and Miss Sarah came walking up together. "Our packages were addressed to the same house. The lady didn't look too happy about getting a box full of shredded paper and a box full of pebbles." said Miss Sarah, passing by Reaver and Barry with Gordon.

"So, what's my prize, Mr. Reaver?" asked Willa, happily skipping up to Reaver. Reaver cocked an eyebrow at Willa. "You said the person who comes back first gets a special reward. So, what's my prize?"

"It's in my bedroom. Come by at the end of the week to receive it." He said, deviously. He then stopped her. "You are of age, correct? Just out of curiosity…" he asked.

"I'm nineteen, Mr. Reaver. We've been over this. I'm not sure how that applies to me getting a prize." Willa answered, somewhat confused by his statement.

"Trust me…it applies." chuckled Reaver.

The sun was just moments from setting when Beryl finally arrived. Reaver looked at his pocket watch and then at Beryl. "You're lucky it's not dinner time yet, or you would have failed! Where in world have you been?" Reaver demanded.

Shaking nervously, Beryl looked up at Reaver, tears in her eyes, and a crack in one of the lenses of her glasses. "_Il y avait beaucoup de coléoptères."_ She whispered softly, as she walked to the manor.

"'There were lots of beetles.'" Reaver translated to Barry, who just nodded.

_Day Three: Trust_

"I understand why I'm blindfolded, Mr. Reaver…" said Gordon, as he stood against a tree with an apple on his head. Miss Sarah had finished putting the blindfold on Gordon and stepped back a few feet, where Barry and the other servants sat. "…but why are you blindfolded?" he asked.

"This exercise is about trust. If you can't trust your Master, than you cannot do a good job." said Reaver, as he loaded his gun and pointed. "Trust is universal in every employee and employer relationship. Trust keeps us together as the demented little family on this cursed sphere we call Earth." He aimed at what he believed was the apple.

"If you trust me, than no harm shall come to you!" shouted Reaver as he began firing. Barry and the other servants ducked down. Gordon stood still, shaking madly as Reaver shot around haphazardly. "Now isn't this fun?!" he shouted, as shots rang out all over the place. His insane sounding laughter could barely be heard over the gun shots and the sounds of things breaking all around. He stopped only to reload his gun. "Gordon, my good man, are you still alive?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Reaver…I think so." answered Gordon, trying to stay still.

"Good. Did I hit the apple, by chance?" Reaver asked again.

Gordon felt the top of his head, and felt the apple. "Well, most of its gone, anyway." said Gordon, again, his voice shaking.

Taking off his blindfold, Reaver saw he hit everything else except Gordon. "Good! You trust me!" he said, jovially. "I wish I could say the same for the birds that used to live in that tree, though…" Reaver walked towards the other servants, who slowly stood up. "Alright! Who's next?"

_Day Four: Retrieval_

Miss Sarah, Rosie, Willa, and Beryl stood on the dock as Reaver paced in front of them, holding a ring. "This ring is a priceless heirloom, given to me by…well, one of my more recent romantic conquests." Reaver let each one get a close look at the ring. It was a stunning piece made from pure gold with tiny diamonds all around it, and a big ruby adorning the top. "Lovely little bobble, if I do say so myself. Why she gave it to me, I don't know. But I promised her I'd never lose it…" he said as he softly tossed the ring in the air and caught it a few times.

"I am a gentleman first and foremost, and a gentleman keeps his promises…of course, even a gentleman can…lose something by 'accident.'" he said as he chucked the ring into the lake. He laughed softly as the ring made a _Ker-plunk_ sound in the middle of Bower Lake. The girls, shocked, almost shrieked at the sight. "Oopsie! Clumsy me!" Reaver laughed again.

"This test will show me you can and will retrieve anything for me, no matter how impossible or in some cases, idiotic, it may seem." Reaver smiled and looked upon the sparkling water of the lake.

"Hey, why isn't Gordon taking the test?" asked Beryl (glasses fixed), a little annoyed.

"Gordon is exempt from this test, because…well, it's not important. Have fun, ladies!" Reaver walked toward Barry and Gordon and sat in his chair by the table with the umbrella in it.

"So, why am I exempt from this test again?" asked Gordon, as Reaver sipped the wine Barry poured for him. The girls stripped down to their dress slips and dove in. "Ohhh, bless you, Mr. Reaver. You are truly a kind man." said Gordon, watching the girls dive in.

"A little 'guy-time' as they call it is never a bad thing…" said Reaver, as Gordon and Barry stared wide-eyed at the girls in the lake.

In the water, the girls dove down constantly and came back up for air. The day may have been hot, but the water was cold, and it shimmered off their bodies each time they came back up for air. Their dress slips clinging tightly to their forms, the girls struggled a bit with comfort but kept diving.

"I must say, Beryl has some nice legs…" Reaver semi-growled, leaning in for a closer look.

"A little too thin for my tastes…" muttered Barry, wiping the drool from his lips.

"Beryl has always been a bit of a bean-pole; comes with being a contortionist. Now Rosie's figure…" said Gordon, as Rosie came back up for air. "Granted, she's not much personality wise, but it wasn't her fortunes that kept the line to the fortune booth long and mostly men…" The men nodded in agreement as they watched Rosie struggle with the dress slip clinging close to her breasts.

"She can read my fortune any day…" said Reaver, lustfully.

Willa popped her head out of the water and then dove back down again. "Willa has a cute face, but…" Barry interrupted himself when Miss Sarah surfaced.

"Mr. Hatch?" Gordon waved his hand in front of Barry's face.

"I got it!" shouted Rosie, as she waved the ring in the air. The girls started swimming toward the dock and then walked up to Reaver. "Alright, I got it…"

The girls, still sopping wet, didn't get a response from the three men. "…got what…?" asked Reaver.

"The ring you 'accidently' threw into the lake and made us go get." shouted Rosie.

"Oh, yes, well…good work…you…did…" Reaver was too transfixed to say anything else. With an angry sigh, Rosie, Willa, and Beryl sloshed their way past the men, with Rosie tossing the ring on the table.

"Wobble, wobble…" snickered Barry as the men watched the girls walk away.

"Umm…may I please have a towel?" chirped Miss Sarah, as she walked up to them. Her dress slip was the tightest of all, her fair skin shimmering with the lake water…and she was cold. As Gordon and Reaver looked wide-eyed at Miss Sarah, Barry's nose erupted with blood as he fainted (with a smile on his face).

_Day Five: Endurance_

The only thing the nobles heard was the sound of five servants screaming and running for their lives as a horde of angry mercenaries chased them around Millfields. Reaver, watching from a hill, followed the chase with a sick kind of amusement. "I told them this test was to find out their endurance but truth be told, I just thought this would be funny." He told Barry, who was setting up a picnic lunch.

_Day Six: Art Appreciation_

"Any servant of mine must have an appreciation for the arts. Be it music, performance pieces, or my favorite, paintings." said Reaver, as he posed on a couch in front of the servants. "Now, let's see what you all come up with."

All the servants stared at him, some drew, and some wrote, while some blushed and tried not to stare. Barry, who probably should have been used to this by now, rubbed his eyes frustratingly in the corner. "Master Reaver, I'm not saying this isn't important, but is it necessary for you to be…_au naturel_?" asked Barry, not looking up.

Reaver, indeed laying in the buff, smiled devilishly. "Art is life, Barry…" The only thing Reaver was wearing was a red silk scarf around his neck and a big devious smile.

_Day Seven: Ceremony_

The servants didn't look too enthusiastic about today. The last week had been exhausting and no one looked forward to whatever demented activity Reaver had in store for his poor servants. Each servant looked like they hadn't slept at all. They probably hadn't. The exhausted servants slunk out of their rooms and made their way to the foyer. "I wonder what embarrassing thing he's going to make us do today." whispered Willa, as they waited for their boss.

"Maybe he'll make us mud wrestle in our underwear." snorted Rosie.

"Or maybe he'll send us on a snipe hunt." groaned Beryl.

Gordon chuckled softly. "Maybe he'll make us go out into the forest and train wild boars."

Everyone gave a soft giggle. "I bet he'll make us go to the castle to retrieve the queen's hairbrush." giggled Willa.

"Oh, you'll have to do that. Those guards have it out for me." laughed Rosie.

Miss Sarah smiled through her closed mouth giggle. "Now, now, you guys. I'm sure, once we're half-way up Mistpeak getting a rare egg from a bird thought long extinct, we'll look back and appreciate…" she couldn't stop herself from laughing, and neither could the others.

"All good suggestions, but not today, my doves." said Reaver, as he and Barry descended the stairs. Everyone stood in attention as Reaver stopped in front of them. "I'm happy to say you all passed with flying colors. You indeed have what it takes to work for me. These last few days have been fun, but now, it's time for a sort of graduation ceremony, if you will." Reaver looked at Barry, who was carrying some boxes.

Handing each one out, Barry went down the line of servants. "These feel heavy." said Willa, softly.

"Are these weapons? You're not going to make us fight to the death, are you?" asked Rosie, sternly.

"Again, another good suggestion, but no, my dear Rosie. These are your new uniforms." said Reaver, leaning against his cane. Each servant opened their box and found a new uniform folded inside.

"Well, I guess it explains why you asked for our measurements the other day." remarked Gordon.

"These uniforms are not like the ones you wear now. They are yours and yours alone. No more one size fits all uniforms for my esteemed servants." said Reaver, happily. Reaver stood in front of his servants, a proud smile on his face. "I'm sure you all know by now that most of those tests were for my amusement. But I do want you to know that it does take a certain something to work for me. You all have shown more spunk and patience than anyone else who has worked for me, besides Barry, of course, in the past years I have been here. These uniforms are not the only rewards you will be getting today, but they symbolize how far you've all come in the last season you've worked for me. I had my doubts at first, but I never would have guessed five circus performers could transform this house in ways a whole league of servants couldn't possibly try to."

Tapping his cane on the floor three times, Reaver instructed Barry to go fetch something from another room. Wiping a small tear from her eye, Miss Sarah smiled and bowed. "Thank you, Mr. Reaver." she said, with the other servants joining in.

A smug smile on his face, Reaver lifted her chin with the top of his cane. "Now, now, my lovely, no need to get emotional. There are more rewards that await you all. But first…"

Barry returned holding what looked like a branding iron. "You will all get your brands today!" Reaver said, jovially. Looking on in shock, the servants hoped he was joking. "Everyone into the kitchen! Miss Sarah, go turn the stoves on!" Reaver took the goggles off his hat and put them on his eyes.

"Mr. Reaver…you're going to brand us?" asked Miss Sarah, shocked.

"But of course! This will symbolize that not only do you work for me…you basically _belong_ to me." He chuckled softly as he waved everyone into the kitchen.

"It's a simple task, really. You choose a spot, I burn the Reaver Industries insignia into your skin, and we find out who likes it extra kinky. It's win-win, if you ask me." Reaver made sure the branding iron was good and hot after Miss Sarah had started one of the stoves up. "All of my servants in the past have had it done. Even Hatch here!" said Reaver, pointing to Barry. "Show them yours, Barry."

"Please don't make me, Master Reaver…it's embarrassing." Barry pleaded.

"Do it, Hatch!" ordered Reaver, reaching to his hip for his gun. Barry sighed and turned around. He unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down to just under his rear. A chorus of laughter rang out from some of the servants (Miss Sarah just blushed and giggled while hiding her eyes). "The only reason it's on his behind is because he made the fatal mistake of getting drunk and passing out later that night." Reaver laughed. Barry pulled up his pants and buckled his belt. He turned around and faced everyone, blushing deep red. "Alright, everyone line up!" shouted Reaver, holding the branding iron high.

Later, in the evening after Reaver had gone to his office for his nightly routine, the happy (and somewhat sore) servants raised their glasses high in the kitchen. Reaver had given them a bottle of champagne, and though they knew it was a cheap brand, they appreciated the gesture. "To Reaver, who gave us these jobs, a slight pay increase and for some reason, has faith in us." toasted Gordon, holding his glass high. His brand was on his upper arm, like a tattoo.

Rosie, who chose to have hers done on her upper thigh (much to Reaver's delight), raised her glass high too. "Here, here!"

Willa's brand was on the small of her back, on the left. "It still itches." She whined a bit.

"Well, stop scratching It." scolded Beryl, putting her glass to her lips. Her brand was on her chest, near her right underarm. Miss Sarah, still blushing from getting hers, had her brand put on her left shoulder blade

Miss Sarah made her way back to her room before the celebration was over. She sighed softly and closed the door tightly behind her. She picked the box off the bed and opened it, smiling at her new uniform. It looked a lot like her old one, except it was somewhat longer and came with striped stockings. The apron still had the Reaver Industries logo in the right corner. She took it out of its box to try on, and as she did, a small package fell from the apron pocket.

Picking it up, the gift looked like something wrapped in a note. Opening it, she found a little trinket. "A miniature hobbe figurine! How cute!" she smiled, placing it on her bedside drawers. She sat on her bed and read the note to herself.

"_Congratulations, Miss Sarah! _

_Willa said you used to collect these before your circus shut down, so I found one for you! _

_Enjoy your little celebration; you deserve it the most. _

_Don't tell Reaver, but I switched the champagnes and you got the good one._

_By the way, I think you will look stunning in your new uniform_

_~Barry Hatch"_

Blushing softly, Miss Sarah placed the note under the hobbe figurine and reclined on her bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she often wondered what she had gotten herself and her friends into. She remembered them leaving the circus, and promising to take care of each other. She remembered the feeling of desperation they all had when looking for jobs. Though they had only been there one season, Miss Sarah felt like this was indeed their home. She smiled softly to the ceiling and slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Reaver, with the cat that had become accustomed to the manor on his lap, wrote in his journal by candlelight. He had become used to this and actually preferred it to the desk lamp. "You sneaky little thing, you…" he said, looking down at the purring kitten on his lap. "You're lucky you know how to stroke my ego. But who names a female cat Reaver, Jr.?" he asked, tapping his pen on his journal. "The servants have become accustomed to calling you 'Reavie'. Well, not as dignified as your proper name, and not as flattering, but it fits, doesn't it?"<p>

Reaver filled his pen again and began writing.

"_Well, summer is upon us, darling journal. You know what that means: it's time for my 'trip' to Bloodstone. I get more frustrated with this errand as each year passes, but you'll be happy to know I won't be sacrificing one of the circus rejects. No, no, they are more important than I had hoped they would be. They survived each ridiculous test and gave me a few good laughs. All in all, not a total waste of a week. It will be nice to be able to return to the office in Industrial with renewed confidence. I gave them their brands tonight as well. Seeing the girls blush was well worth it. Miss Sarah seemed to blush more than the other girls, which I have noticed a lot lately. She is older than the others, twenty-six or twenty-seven, I'm not sure, but she is so innocent seeming compared to the others…why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say she was still…"_

Reaver's musing was interrupted by a knock on his office door. "Enter!" he shouted, shooing the cat off his lap.

Willa entered slowly. "Mr. Reaver, you said to come by your room for my reward. Well, do you want me to wait there for you or should I try and find it myself?" she asked.

Reaver, with a lewd smirk, stood up and straightened his vest. "Oh, of course, Willa. Just come with me…" Reaver closed his journal and put the pen away. He slowly walked around his desk just as Willa opened the office door a little wider.

"Just out of curiosity, Mr. Reaver, do you think I'll like it?" Willa asked, waiting by the door. Reaver blew out the candle and walked to Willa. He placed his thumb and index finger under her chin as she blushed.

"Oh, trust me, Little Bit…you'll be squealing with delight…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha again, my lovelies! Did you enjoy this week's installment? I hope so, because I enjoyed writing it! To be honest, a few parts made me blush a bit writing. Guess which ones and you win awesome points. You can probably tell by now, but I like having Reaver have the last words in my stories. He is entitled to them, trust me.<strong>

**To those familiar with anime (which I hope everyone is, because anime is awesome) Barry's nosebleed is homage to one of my favorite anime themes: perverted thoughts making your nose erupt with gallons of blood. It's so hilarious and it's universal. It stems from a long-standing Japanese folk belief that a nosebleed may signify sexual thoughts or arousal (i.e. perverted thoughts). Apparently, it's more common in older men. I estimate Barry to be in his early 30s or at least his late 20s, but I dunno.**

**Well, things can only getting stupider from here. For my next installment, poker will be played! Which reminds me; does anyone know how to play poker?**

**As always, I appreciate your reviews and I hope to see how much you all enjoy my insanity haha.**

**Review and be merry, my friends!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	6. Poker Night and Poetry

_Reaver's Servants_

Poker Night and Poetry

"_Oooh, Mr. Hatch! You're so sweet and tender with your hands!" said Miss Sarah, as Barry twirled her around. _

"_Only for you, Miss Sarah." cooed Barry, holding Miss Sarah close. _

"_You are so strong, Mr. Hatch! You make me blush so red! No one has ever treated me so well! You're words are so beautiful!" Miss Sarah squealed in delight as Barry brought her closer to him. _

"_Not as beautiful as you, my sweet little hobbe!" Both blushed. _

"_Oh, Mr. Hatch!" Barry puckered up his lips and went in for a kiss…_

"Miss Sarah doesn't sound like that!" laughed a voice from outside Barry's daydream.

Barry, lips still puckered, abruptly left his little daydream with a yelp and dropped the coat stand he was romancing. Willa stood in his doorway, giggling softly. "How…how long have you been standing there?!" shouted Barry, picking up the coat stand and placing it up properly.

"Well…how long have you and that coat stand been a happy couple, Mr. Hatch?" she smirked.

Barry tried to find the words to reason his actions. He tried being angry, and when he saw that didn't falter her, he tried reasoning, and that failed as well. With a defeated sigh, Barry crossed his arms and gritted his teeth. "Alright, you little witch, what is it going to take so that _NOBODY_, especially Miss Sarah, ever finds out about this?"

Willa smiled her own little Reaver smile. "Well, it is Wednesday…"

Wednesday was semi-special to everyone at Lakeview Manor. For the servants, it was payday and an evening off. To Reaver, it meant an evening of peace and quiet with a lady of his choosing from the town. Each servant stood in line and waited patiently as Barry handed them their pay. Reaver never personally handled the finances, which was one of the reasons he kept Barry around.

Each servant smiled happily as they received their payment. Barry reached Willa, who was happily talking to Beryl. "So, it wasn't at all what you thought it was?" Beryl asked softly.

Willa shook her head and awaited payment. "Nope. I tell you, Mr. Reaver sure can be convincing, though. I actually thought he was trying to…" Willa looked up and happily accepted her pay, plus a special bonus.

"Remember our deal…" Barry growled.

Willa nodded and smiled. "I'm a lady of my word, Mr. Hatch!" she said, as she saluted. Willa ran off to join Beryl and Rosie, who were heading off to Bowerstone. All the servants were off to enjoy the Bowerstone nightlife and spend their hard-earned (and in Willa's case, ill-gotten) coin.

Barry sighed softly to himself as he went to sit down on a nearby couch. "Half of my pay, gone to silence that sneaky little extortionist." He groaned. "Well, poker night will be a little light, I guess…"

"Poker night?" chirped Miss Sarah, as she came down the stairs. Like the other servants, Miss Sarah was dressed in everyday clothes this evening. She held a book under her right arm. "I didn't know you played poker, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah made her way to Barry, who rubbed the back of his head and blushed as he stood up.

"Oh, it's nothing, Miss Sarah. Just me and a few buddies get together every Wednesday evening and play a few rounds of poker. It's very therapeutic. We talk, and drink, of course. We do play at a pub." Barry blushed as Miss Sarah came closer.

"That sounds like fun. We used to play poker all the time back when the Circus was still in business. We didn't get paid enough to bet money, so we usually just played for unclaimed items at the lost and found or unsold souvenirs from the gift stand. May I join you?" Miss Sarah asked, with a smile. "I hate to brag, but I could win a few asbestos stuffed plushies on a good night." She added, with a giggle.

Barry blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, normally I'd be happy to have you along, Miss Sarah, but it is a guy's only type of night." He said, still blushing.

Miss Sarah didn't look offended, she just smiled. "Perfectly understandable, Mr. Hatch. I think my previous plans will suit me fine, anyway."

Miss Sarah held up a book. "'Poetry for Summer'?" Barry read from the title.

Holding her book close, Miss Sarah nodded happily. "Oh yes, I adore poetry. There is a café in Bowerstone that just opened and I hear it's the perfect place to sit and read." Miss Sarah bowed softly and walked to the door. "I'm going to be meeting Gordon and the others there when they are done shopping. If you wish, you can join us after your game if it isn't too late."

Barry blushed and waved as Miss Sarah left the manor. He turned to head upstairs to get ready and almost bumped right into Reaver, who was standing right behind him. "Poker, Hatch? Really? I would have assumed you did more productive things on your night off." He teased as Barry stepped around him. "You know, you've never invited me on a poker night. Of course, you've never tried to bed me. Well, except that one time…"

Blushing deeply, Barry stopped where he was and shushed Reaver. "You promised not to bring that up anymore! And I'm not trying to bed Miss Sarah!" he panicked.

Reaver laughed jovially. "Of course, you and your coat stand are in a committed relationship." He laughed, as he walked away. Barry leaned against the banister and sighed softly to himself. He glanced down and saw Reavie, the newest addition to the manor, purring softly and rubbing against his leg.

"I assume you're going to blackmail me too, ehh, Reavie?" Barry picked up the cat and walked to his room slowly. Placing the cat on his bed, Barry took off his uniform jacket and threw it over a nearby chair. He reached into his wardrobe and picked out another jacket. It looked like his uniform jacket, except without the Reaver Industries logo on it. "Don't complain about my fashion sense, Kitty-kitty. You wear a pink bow." He muttered to the cat staring at him from the reflection in his mirror.

He made sure his door was closed and no one was around. "If you must know, Reavie, I do fancy Miss Sarah somewhat, but I know I'm not good enough for her. Besides, she's a respectable lady. A girl like her needs to be romanced." He pointed out, fixing his cuffs. Reavie meowed softly as Barry did this. "The other women I've been involved with? Ehh, not the romancing types. Most were the 'I just need a reason to leave the house tonight' types." Barry rubbed the cat's head and straightened out the rest of his clothes.

With the cat following behind, Barry left his room and walked to the foyer. "You have food in the kitchen. If Reaver sees you eating off the plate Miss Sarah left for him on the table, he'll come after you. Let's not have a repeat of that, I can't keep vouching for you." He warned the cat, as he left.

Barry walked up the path and toward Bowerstone. Entering Bowerstone Market, Barry passed all the people of the early evening going about their business. Crossing the bridge, he looked below at the river, the lights of the city reflecting off the still water. With a soft smile, Barry made his way across the bridge, avoided the venders trying to shove free samples at him, and made his way to the pub. "The Cock in the Crown; I wonder why they changed the name?" he wondered to himself. "I thought The Cow and Corset was a jaunty name."

Walking in, Barry looked around for a free table. The crowd was sparse, as it was only early evening. "Barry! Over here!" shouted a voice from a corner table.

Barry looked over and smiled. "Elliot! Good to see you! And you saved us a table!" he shouted as he went to sit down. "Just the two of us, again?" Barry asked as a barmaid brought a pitcher of ale that Elliot had ordered.

"Yeah, our third is in…something of a bind, so it's just us." Elliot was obviously younger than Barry. Probably not even over twenty-one, Elliot still had a rose-tinted view of the world that Barry hated to admit he was jealous of. They met when Elliot was still working for the shelter in Industrial and became fast friends.

"So, how's married life treating you, Elliot?" asked Barry, as Elliot shuffled the cards.

"It's wonderful. You'd think with all her new responsibilities, she'd have no time for me…but lately…wow…" Elliot blushed, letting Barry cut the cards. Barry handed the deck back to Elliot, and he dealt out the cards.

Barry was probably the only person at the pub that knew Elliot was married to the Queen (making him the King consort, technically). He preferred to keep a low profile, but since no one in the market ever came up to the castle, Elliot didn't really need to disguise himself. He never left the castle much, unless accompanied by his wife or to play poker. "So, you ever think about getting married, Barry?" Elliot asked, while looking over his hand.

Blushing softly, Barry placed a gold piece on the table as his bet. "Me? Get married? You know my luck with women, Elliot. I have none." He said, barely looking up from his cards.

"Oh, come on, what ever happened to that Amelia lady?" asked Elliot, replacing a card.

"Her husband chased me off with a rake after she "forgot" to mention she was married. Probably for the best, anyway." answered Barry.

"We've been friends for a while, Barry, but I've never known you to hold on to one woman for very long." said Elliot, pouring some ale from the pitcher into his mug.

"Well, usually, once they see I work for Reaver, they either scream and run away, or scream and run into his arms. It can be tough working for Reaver. People think the factory jobs are tough, try managing Reaver's life. Being his personal assistant and attendant is exhausting. But I guess it's not so bad." Barry chuckled, waiting for Elliot to finish pouring. Elliot shook his head and passed the pitcher to Barry.

Shrugging while pouring, Barry sighed and placed the pitcher down. He looked up from his hand every so often to see Elliot grinning like a madman. He didn't have much of a poker face. Barry took a sip, but couldn't shake Elliot's devilish grin from his mind. "I know why it's not so bad…" he laughed. "…Miss Sarah, the cook!" Trying not to choke, Barry panicked and shushed Elliot, who was laughing up a riot. "You know I'm only teasing you, Barry. Why don't you ask her out sometime?" he asked, as his laughing stopped.

"Oh, I'm not good enough for someone like Miss Sarah." said Barry, studying his hand.

"It might help you gain a bit of confidence if you stopped telling yourself that." mentioned Elliot. Rolling his eyes, Barry watched Elliot place his bet. "Three fours, with ace, king kickers." said Elliot, laying down his hand.

With a chuckle, Barry shook his head. "Nice try, Junior." said Barry, laying his down. "Full house, kings full of fours."

The evening went by fast, the tavern becoming more crowded. "So, do you even want to get married someday, Barry?" Elliot asked, trying not to show how panicked his was at his losing streak tonight.

"Ahh, don't get me wrong, Elliot; one day, I do think I want to settle down with a wife and have a few little Barry Hatch's running around, but it's probably not the best time for me at the moment." Barry sipped his drink and sighed. "Have you and the misses thought about having kids?" asked Barry, placing his bet.

Elliot swallowed hard and looked at his cards deeply. "We've discussed it, but she said the political climate isn't the best at the moment." said Elliot, not looking up from his cards. "I don't know what the Hell it means, but condoms aren't expensive, so…ehh…" Elliot shrugged and placed down his cards. "8-high straight!" he announced, jovially.

Barry laid his cards down. "Ace-high flush." Elliot slammed his head onto the table as Barry gathered up his winnings. "You're a great friend, Elliot, but a mediocre poker player." said Barry, snidely.

"The sad part is; I know." whined Elliot, refilling his mug with the rest of the ale in the pitcher. Elliot glanced up briefly. "You're enjoying this too much, Barry." He muttered.

Later on, Barry and Elliot walked out of the tavern as the night crowd rushed in. "Good thing we left when we did. The night crowd gets a bit ugly." Barry mentioned.

Elliot nodded in agreement as but his hands behind his head. "You should really ask out Miss Sarah." Elliot said, out of nowhere.

"Can we drop that, please?" pleaded Barry, as they reached the center of the marketplace. Walking aimlessly about town, Barry and Elliot looked about for something to do. Barry happened to look over and see a small café. "Hey, isn't that the new café everyone is talking about?" asked Barry, pointing to a small storefront with a few chairs and tables in front. Getting closer, they saw that the inside was almost packed, save for a few tables here and there. Squinting, Barry looked inside and saw Miss Sarah, sitting alone reading her book. "Miss Sarah!" said Barry, excitedly.

"Where?" asked Elliot. Barry pointed to a table. Elliot cocked an eyebrow. "That's Miss Sarah?" he asked. Miss Sarah wasn't wearing anything fancy. She wore a very casual dress (green long sleeved dress with black boots) and her dull brown shoulder length hair just lying around her shoulders. To Elliot, she didn't look like anything impressive. She wasn't a stunning beauty by any means, but she was pretty.

"Yes, that's Miss Sarah." Barry swooned with a blush.

They both just stared at her through the window. Elliot pushed Barry inside and up to her table. Miss Sarah looked up and smiled. "Oh hello Mr. Hatch! You're the first one here!" she said, happily as she closed her book.

"Hello, Miss Sarah." said Barry, nervously. Miss Sarah invited the two to sit with her. "This is Elliot, my poker buddy." Barry said, motioning to Elliot as he sat.

Miss Sarah put down her book and nodded with a smile. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Elliot. I'm Sarah. I work with Mr. Hatch at Lakeview Manor."

Elliot smiled and waved. "I'd like to stay, but I got a hot date with the misses tonight. I'll see you next Wednesday, Barry!"

Elliot made his grand escape before Barry could protest. Miss Sarah giggled softly. "My, my, he sure was in a hurry." She giggled softly. "Mr. Hatch, I'm glad you showed up." She said, tapping her book.

"You are?" Barry asked, a bit surprised. Barry had never spent time alone with Miss Sarah out in public, so the thought of a million eyes on him at once made him uneasy.

"Yes, the others haven't come back yet, and I'm just itching to talk about this book!" she said, happily. "The poetry in this book is so deep and full of life." Barry didn't care for poetry much, but he listened anyway, watching the topic bring out such vibrant emotions in Miss Sarah. "Would you like to hear one?" she asked. Barry nodded as she opened the book to a marked page.

"_Summer sky, tea and clouds_

_Harmony and flowers, soul is proud_

_Golden sun, hear my plea_

_Sing a summer song for me"_

Barry didn't understand poetry. In fact, he didn't care for it. But hearing it come from Miss Sarah's lips made it sound musical and for once, interesting. "Oh! I forgot to ask about your poker game, Mr. Hatch! How did it go?" she asked softly.

"Well, Elliot is a good friend, but a mediocre poker player." He laughed softly.

Miss Sarah nodded, holding her book close to her. "How about we play a round or two while we wait for the others?" asked Miss Sarah.

Barry picked the deck of cards out of his pocket. "I won the deck off of him too." He snickered.

"May I deal?" Miss Sarah asked. Miss Sarah took the cards and shuffled fast, fanned them in her hands, made them disappear, and reappear again and dealt the cards.

"I keep forgetting you used to be a magician's assistant." said Barry, amazed.

Their game started out calm and fun, but as time passed, it got fierce. Miss Sarah smiled and didn't lose face as the game got intense. People were starting to watch, amazed at Miss Sarah, though she was modest.

"_All bets in, no time to lose_

_Take a pick, a card to choose"_

Barry seemed a bit uneasy at Miss Sarah for making up poetry as she was winning. Barry was losing confidence in his own poker abilities. An hour passed by as the two played. Eventually the others showed up, but immediately knew something bad was happening. "Oh no! Did that idiot actually accept a poker challenge from Miss Sarah?" panicked Willa, holding her purchases close. "This isn't good. No one has ever beaten Miss Sarah at poker!"

"We probably should have told him that at some point, then." said Rosie as they ran into the café. Miss Sarah's poker face was amazing. She just smiled.

A smile on his face, Barry felt confident he finally got her. "Miss Sarah, I must admit you are quite talented. You always amaze me; but this game and the pot is mine…" he laid down his hand. "Four of a kind queens and a ten." He said, as he reached for the gold on the table. Miss Sarah softly placed her hand over his, making them both blush.

"_This game was fun, we'll do it again_

_But tonight, I'm sorry, you didn't win_

_I hate to brag, or even gush_

_But Mr. Hatch…Royal Flush!"_

Miss Sarah laid her cards out and everyone cheered as she gathered her winnings. Barry slammed his head on the table. "Well, I guess I know how Elliot feels now…" he murmured to himself.

"Come on! Tell me how you did it!" pleaded Barry, as the group made their way back to Millfields later on.

"Sorry, Mr. Hatch! It's a secret and magicians never tell their secrets!" Miss Sarah teased.

"But you're a magician's _assistant_, I'm sure you can bend the rules just this one!" Miss Sarah giggled softly and paid him no mind. "Was it magic? Did you use magic?" he asked, desperately. "At least give me a chance to win my gold back!"

The rest of the group trailed behind Barry and Miss Sarah, laughing amongst each other. "Poor Mr. Hatch. He lost half his pay earlier and now he lost his poker winnings." said Willa, softly.

"How did he lose half his pay earlier?" asked Beryl.

"I blackmailed him. I'm sure Miss Sarah will scold me into giving it back, now." Willa answered, simply.

"Was he making out with the coat stand, again?" asked Gordon.

"You've seen him do it too?" asked Willa, somewhat unsurprised.

"Yeah, we all have. I thought about blackmailing him, but I figured just me knowing was punishment enough. He should really just learn to lock his door." stated Rosie, stoically. Everyone nodded as they walked.

* * *

><p>Reaver, still semi-awake, sat up in his bed and wrote in his journal by candlelight. He didn't want to disturb his sleeping companion, so we wrote as quietly as he could.<p>

"_From the sounds I keep hearing in the room next to mine, I can assume Hatch had a bad poker night. Well, he should have learned his lesson from playing against me all those times. You'd think after the time he bet a season's worth of unpaid service would have made him at least try to become a better poker player. I warned him about gambling, and the previous passages from a while ago can vouch for me, dear journal."_

"Mmm…Reaver, dear…ready for round two?" asked the lady he had just become acquainted with not more than three hours ago.

"Alright, _Mon chéri_…give me a moment…" he teased, as the lady reached for his chest.

"_I am happy to report my night went swimmingly. With the servants out of the house, I wasn't hard to give my 'A-Game' to…now what the devil was her name again? Oh well, no matter. I'll have Hatch see her out in the morning if she's still here. I told my servants of the trip to Bloodstone before the summer's end, and they seem thrilled at the aspect of me taking them along. They may be full-fledged, but I would not trust them alone in my lovely home for more than a day. Hell, I probably shouldn't trust them alone with the cat."_

"Reaver!" the lady pleaded, pulling herself closer to him.

Reaver placed his journal on his nightstand and placed his arm around his temporary bed companion. "Oh, now tut-tut, my dear…patience is a virtue…" he laughed as he pulled the lady on top of him.

"Though, I'm probably not the right person to go to about virtues…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! I know, I've been spinning out stories crazy fast lately! It is certainly nuts, I tell you! Well, I had a whole weekend to myself, so I decided to do some overtime on writing and here we are now haha. It's a little shorter than my usual stuff, but I think it gets to point across. <strong>

**Truth be told, I think my stuff might start getting dirty as the series goes on, so I might have to change the rating to M, but that might not be for a while, okie Lovelies?**

**Yes, those poems are mine. I know, my poetry is awesome (lol just kidding, they are kind of uninspired).**

**Sometimes, when I write, I listen to music. I was listening to "All Apologies" by Nirvana (one of the best bands ever, I might add) while writing the first few paragraphs and the lyrics fit Barry pretty well. Their song "Lithium" kind of reminds me of Reaver, but that's for another story, methinks lol.**

**In a few of my stories, recently, you kept hearing the characters talk about a trip to Bloodstone. Don't worry, it's coming, but not until after my next story. I tend to start writing the next story while I'm still writing one haha weird habit, I know.**

**Next installment: Muffins! Lots of muffins! What will Reaver do? Or rather, what will he make his servants do?**

**Tatty-bye, my doves! **

**And don't forget to review! I appreciate all criticism, but prefer positive haha.**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Elliot belong to Lionhead.**


	7. Dead Annie's Revenge

_Reaver's Servants_

Dead Annie's Revenge

_The sea faring men of Albion have a legend_

_When the storms on the seas get too rough _

_When the rain starts hitting the ship like bullets_

_Dead Annie is on her way_

_The storm clouds are her jolly roger _

_The lightening is your only warning_

_You'll hear no cannon fire_

_Not even a warning bell_

_When Dead Annie comes to claim a new crew…_

Reaver's eyes remained closed as he tried to escape the gnawing feeling he had been getting since early that morning. He assumed it was the lackluster breakfast he had Miss Sarah make. He didn't want to eat too much, as he and his servants were about to embark on a voyage. This trip meant many things to Reaver, but he wouldn't say them out loud. He stared out the open window of his bedroom, sighing softly.

His mind wondered to his time on the open sea, before his sudden transformation into a "proper" businessman. The ocean wind in his hair, the thrill of adventure around any corner, and the spoils of a captured ship brought a nostalgic smile to his face. Reaver found his thoughts going back to his pirate days a lot lately, and couldn't get the thought of how it all began out of his head. _The promise of treasure makes even the smartest captain as gullible as the dumbest deck hand_ was his only thought as he stared out the window.

"Mr. Reaver?" Rosie softly nudged him out of his day dream. "How many shirts did you want me to pack?" she asked, standing over an open suitcase.

Reaver eyed Rosie for a moment, forgetting himself, but then regained his composure. "About nine or so." He responded, closing the window and locking it.

The summer day was hot. The beginning of summer was always hot. Gordon and Barry spent of most of the sweltering morning loading luggage onto the top of Reaver's personal carriage. The carriage was usually kept in a shed in the garden and they had to rent a horse from a farm in Silverpines, but Reaver never had to pay for carriage passage anywhere. After Reaver's suitcases were loaded, the other luggage went on. All servants (save for Rosie, who was helping Reaver pack) were outside and in uniform.

"Why is he making us wear our uniforms? What are we supposed to clean the inside of the carriage?" asked Willa, throwing her suitcase to Gordon.

"We're not taking a carriage all the way there, Willa." corrected Beryl, tossing her suitcase at Barry. He caught it, but not before it hit his nose. "It would take days to get to Bloodstone by carriage. I think we're going to Industrial and taking a boat." She added. Willa sighed and crossed her arms.

"Did you say…boat?" asked Miss Sarah, as she walked outside with her luggage (which consisted of a handbag and a suitcase). Miss Sarah's face turned a slight color of green. "I…I don't do so well on boats…" she said softly, already feeling her stomach turning.

Rubbing his nose as he walked up, Barry saw Miss Sarah tremble. "What's the matter, Miss Sarah?" he asked, as he carefully took her suitcase.

"Well, I tend to get a little…sea sick on long boat rides." She mumbled. Barry carefully put her suitcase on the others.

"Oh, no need to worry yourself, Miss Sarah!" he said, jovially. "It's not a long boat ride; probably no more than a day or so. We'll be in Bloodstone before you know it."

Nodding, though still not sure, Miss Sarah tried not to think about it. It was at that time Reaver walked out with Rosie, who was holding her bag and his last suitcase. "Oh what a glorious day! The sun is shining, the birds are singing; why, it's the perfect day for a voyage, wouldn't you all agree?" he shouted jovially. Rosie handed the luggage to Gordon and he strapped it all down. "Alright, is everyone packed up? We have a long voyage ahead!"

"Long voyage, Sir?" asked Miss Sarah, somewhat nervous.

"Oh yes, my dear! A few days on a ship, oooh such fun! Reminds me of my pirating days!" Reaver didn't notice how nervous (and nauseous) Miss Sarah had become. "The sea air in your face, the gentle rocking motion of the boat, sea water splashing to and fro…up and down, up and down…"

_BLEH!_

Reaver looked up from his speech and saw Miss Sarah, bent over a shrub holding her stomach. "Miss Sarah, don't ruin Gordon's lovely shrubbery." said Reaver, nonchalantly. "Now, get in, all of you! We have a schedule to keep!"

Reavie came dashing out of the house as Rosie was shutting the door. The little kitty cat jumped into Willa's arms and purred happily. "Can't forget that flea-bitten thing, now can we?" he muttered and boarded the carriage.

Barry entered after Reaver and sat next to him. Rosie entered next and sat across from Reaver and Barry. Willa and Beryl got in next and sat next to Rosie. Miss Sarah, still a bit queasy, got in and sat by the window, next to Barry. Reavie made herself comfortable on Willa's lap. Gordon closed the door and hoped onto the coach's seat. "Alright, everyone ready?" he shouted. Reaver stuck his gloved hand out the window and motioned for him to go. Gordon snapped the reins and the carriage was off.

"Miss Sarah, are you going to be alright?" asked Beryl, breaking the silence.

"Yes, yes…I'll be fine. The fresh air is helping me a bit…" she said, as she reclined her head near the window.

"You never traveled by boat in the circus?" asked Reaver, pretending he cared just to make conversation.

"No…caravans, most of the time. Our ringleader was pretty cheap." said Rosie. Will and Beryl nodded, with Beryl adjusting her glasses to keep the sun's glare from hurting her eyes. "Though, whenever we did have to go by ship anywhere, it would explain why Miss Sarah would never leave the cabin area."

Willa sat up and looked at Rosie, who sat by the window on their side of the carriage. She hated sitting in the middle, but said nothing about it. Tapping his foot loudly (he hated awkward silences, though he was often the cause of some of them), Reaver looked at Willa, who was swinging her legs. _For someone who wants to be treated like an adult, she sure has many child-like mannerisms_ he thought, placing his hands in his lap.

"We're entering Bowerstone, Mr. Reaver!" shouted Gordon from outside.

"Very good, Gordon! Keep this up, we're making good time!" Reaver shouted, looking at his pocket watch.

After a little while, the carriage came to a stop in Industrial. Reaver got out first, then Barry, then the others. "Watch your step, Miss Sarah." said Barry, helping her down with a blush. He smiled softly and went to help Gordon. Reaver took in the air around him and smiled. He was probably the only person in all of Industrial that was smiling (or at least sober and smiling).

Willa, still holding on tightly to Reavie, looked up in wonder at Reaver's ship. "It's beautiful, Mr. Reaver!" she shouted, happily.

Reaver patted her on the head and smiled. "Why, thank you, Little Bit. I do try…" she noted the air of pomposity in his remark.

Gordon and Barry unloaded the luggage onto the ship, with the help of a few of the ship's crew members. Gordon and Barry boarded last. "Mr. Hatch, is it really a good idea to be sailing today?" asked Gordon, pointing to some storm clouds on the horizon.

Barry looked to where Gordon was pointing. "Probably not, but it won't stop Reaver…" Barry's nonchalant response did little to set Gordon at ease. Barry looked up at the storm clouds on the far horizon. He had heard the tales and even heard some of the crew murmuring. Barry usually made a note not to believe superstitions, but this particular one he always made an exception for. "Dead Annie might sail tonight…" he muttered to himself.

After everything and everyone was loaded on, Reaver gave everyone the grand tour of his private ship. "It is a short voyage to Bloodstone, so we probably won't have much need for a few of the facilities on this boat. But better safe than sorry, as they say." Everyone followed him below deck. He guided them down the hall, opened one of the doors and presented a grand cabin with everything one would need. It looked almost identical to his bedroom at the manor. "This is my cabin. I ask that you don't disturb me when I am in here unless I ask for you or something is on fire."

He then directed his servants to another room. He opened the door and presented them with the sorriest excuse for a room they had ever seen. The cabin was small and had bunk beds aligning the wall. "It seems some of you might be sleeping on the floor." He chuckled softly. The stunned servants just stood there, staring into the lifeless cabin. "Get settled in, we take off soon." Reaver jovially left the servants to their cabin. Reavie jumped out of Willa's arms and immediately made herself at home on the bottom right bunk.

"Umm…Master Reaver?" Barry tapped Reaver's shoulder. "Where will I be sleeping?" he asked, nervously.

"Why, Barry, my most loyal servant…I wouldn't have you sleep in that dank little water closet, I respect you too much." Reaver smiled deviously as he placed his hand on Barry's shoulder. Barry had a feeling admiration for Reaver. That feeling quickly went away when Reaver stuck Barry in his own little water closet near the brig. While it was indeed his own room, Barry felt he might as well be bunking with the servants. At least their appointed room smelled better.

"Part of me is convinced this used to be part of the brig." Barry muttered as Reaver poked the cot mattress with his cane.

"Part of you would be right, I think." said Reaver, as he poked the bed some more. "I've never heard a cot make that kind of squishy squeaking noise." He mumbled, as he backed out of the room. "Alright, after you all get settled in meet me up top on the deck!" Reaver yelled into the hallway as he made his way up top.

The servants didn't take long to get settled in (they didn't have anywhere to put their things) and joined Reaver on deck. Barry followed them and stood next to Reaver. "We shove off soon, so get a good look at Bowerstone! We won't be returning for two weeks." The servants looked over the sides of the boat. The gentle rocking of the ship didn't do well for Miss Sarah, who refused to move an inch near the edge of the boat.

"Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!" shouted Reaver, chuckling to himself. "Feels good to talk old pirate lingo." He sighed happily. The anchor up and sails drawn, the boat was off. Reaver took off his hat and smiled as the wind flowed through his hair. It was a nice feeling and the nostalgia overtook him almost immediately. "Ahh, the sea air! I do miss it sometimes." he smiled and looked over at the servants, as they stared at the disappearing port. He saw Miss Sarah holding on to the mast for dear life while Barry was trying to coax her to join the others. "Oh yes, this will be fun…" he muttered to himself.

The afternoon at sea dragged on, with not much else happening. Reaver stayed on deck, keeping a close eye on the deck hands and making sure they kept to a strict schedule. "Master Reaver, we finally got Miss Sarah to come out of the cabin, and once we calmed her down a bit, she asked what you'd like for lunch." said Barry, walking up to Reaver.

"Nothing big, I don't want to upset my stomach on this voyage. A salad would be fine." muttered Reaver, looking out to the sea. Memories of the sea engulfed Reaver's mind and it made him smile. His days of adventure, capturing ships, killing crews, and taking treasures were still fresh in his mind, sending a chill he quite enjoyed down his spine. He watched the crew go about their business doing this and that.

"Reaver!" yelled a scruffy voice from behind.

Reaver turned around and saw one of his crew men standing in attention. "Yes, what is it?" Reaver asked calmly.

"We have reports of a storm coming this way. A nasty looking one, but nothing we can't manage. We won't be hitting it until this evening but we thought it'd be best to warn you now." said the man, a bit nervous about being around Reaver.

"Well, do what you must and come get me if anything goes wrong." Reaver left the deck and made his way below, toward the kitchen.

Two crew men watched Reaver sashayed his way below deck. "How bad is the storm?" asked one of the crew men.

"It's looking bad, but I don't think Dead Annie will be sailing tonight…"

The winds picked up and so did the waves in the late evening. The rain had only started, but already the servants and the crew were soaked down to their underclothes. The boat rocked violently, which didn't do much for Miss Sarah's stomach. "Here, lass; it'll settle your stomach." said one of the deck hands, handing her a flask.

"I don't drink much…" said Miss Sarah, politely refusing. The ship swayed violently and almost knocked Miss Sarah over. "Since you insisted…" she smiled and took the flask, taking small nips from it.

As Reaver yelled orders to the crew and the storm worsened, Barry hurried everyone below deck. "You know what the old pirates say about big storms, right?" he said, handing them all towels when they reached the kitchen.

"What about big storms?" asked Willa, drying herself off.

"There is an old folk legend about storms." Barry started as Miss Sarah turned the stove on to make tea. "They say that when a big storm arises, Dead Annie is on her way."

"Dead Annie?" asked Miss Sarah, putting the tea pot on the burner.

"Yep, the legend of Dead Annie. I figured one of the 'sea dogs' around here would have mentioned it." Barry leaned back in his chair as everyone sat around the table and listened. "Well, hundreds of years ago, a pirate going by the name of 'Dead Annie' used to patrol the waters around Bloodstone Port. They say no sea was too rough for her and her crew, no one too tough to defeat her. When she heard of spoils to be had, you better believe she had it before anyone else."

"Why did they call her 'Dead Annie'?" asked Rosie, leaning forward.

"They say her gaze could strike any man dead, be he the strongest pirate, or the most cowardly noble. She was as deadly as she was beautiful and there was no fairer woman that sailed the seas, they say. Nothing was out of Dead Annie's grasp. One night, a violent storm blew onto the horizon, but Annie had heard of a treasure being taken to port, and of course, wanted in on it. Her crew refused to go with her, seeing it more suicidal than they liked." Barry stopped his story when Miss Sarah got up to fetch the tea, as the kettle was whistling. She poured each person a cup of tea and sat back down with her cup. "Well, they say she sailed into the storm alone, and she was never heard from again. Her ship, her body, nothing was ever found of her. After that night, sailors from all over swear that when a violent storm forms, they see Dead Annie and her ship, looking for a new crew."

"Oh, it seems I missed the bedtime story. You do spin a good yarn, Barry." said Reaver, as he stomped into the kitchen, sopping wet. Miss Sarah got up and started making him a cup of tea. "Skip the tea, Miss Sarah, and just give me whatever's in that flask the deck hand gave you." Reaver took the flask and downed it in one gulp. Willa gave him a fresh towel and he dried himself off. "That storm is violent, but it should calm soon. Hopefully we'll be in Bloodstone by tomorrow afternoon." Reaver announced, drying his hair. "In order to get through this, I want everyone to stay below deck until the worst of the storm passes. Let the deck hands do their jobs and everything should be fine." Reaver placed the flask down after he attempted to take one more swig. "Now, off to bed with all of you. The sooner we rise, the sooner we'll be in Bloodstone."

The calmness of the night was eerie, and kept anyone from getting any real sleep. Thunder roared after a little while, and lightening flashing from the hallway kept the servants from sleeping soundly. Above deck, the fog slowly encased the boat, as a dark storm cloud blackened the sky. The creaking of old wood could be heard by the deck hands still awake. The deck hands watched the storm cloud engulf their ship, with rain hitting the deck like bullets. The air became icy and all available deck hands watched as a decrepit ship sailed out of the storm clouds engulfing the sea and right beside them. Without an anchor, the ship somehow came to a complete stop.

The creaky, seaweed covered boat housed only wisps. A feminine form could be seen through the dense fog and icy rain. A wisp floated next to the form, as if whispering something to the apparition. The form smiled a boney smile and halted the ship. Laying a plank down, the apparition walked slowly toward the other ship. "Avast ye, swabs…I come baring no good will…"

"Dead Annie!" one crew men yelled, running toward the warning bell. The warning bell rang loudly, waking up Reaver and his servants. The deck hands raced about, trying to find some way to stop the impending doom that was now boarding the ship.

Her skin was white as snow and one eye was missing. Her clothes tattered and her hair a wet mess. Dead Annie was here to claim more for her ghastly crew. She pointed a boney finger at the deck hands and shrieked a ghastly noise.

Reaver awoke when he heard this and reached for his gun almost immediately. He heard bloodcurdling screams coming from above. Hurriedly putting on a shirt, pants, and his boots, Reaver opened his side table drawer and picked out his gun, and a dagger. He put the dagger in his boot and held his gun close as he ran topside, seeing only fog. The warning bell was still ringing. Reaver made his way toward the sound and his eyes widened at the sight of Dead Annie standing over the warning bell. "Hello, Reaver…" she whispered. "It's been a long time…how have you been?"

"Dead Annie…" he whispered, as if addressing an old rival.

"You haven't aged a bit, Reaver…" said the apparition, taking out her cutlass.

"Wish I could say the same for you…" mocked Reaver, holding his gun in the air. Dead Annie smiled her crooked dead smile, but didn't move. "You look like you went down with your ship like a good captain should always do." Reaver's mocking tone did not entertain the apparition.

With her one remaining eye glowing, her hollow crew appeared weapons ready. Reaver smiled deviously at the ghost and her crew. "You have a hearty crew, my dove, just like the old days. But I've taken on my share of hollow men, and won!" It didn't take many shots to down some of her crew. "If you're looking for a new crew, like the legends go, you'll have to look elsewhere."

Dead Annie cackled evilly as a few wisps replaced the hollow crewmembers Reaver shot. "I don't need a new crew anymore. All these years, I've been searching for you. I couldn't rest until you were in my sights again, standing before me as you used to…"

Reaver cocked an eyebrow. "I knew you had a crush on me, Annie, my dear, but to defy death just to find me…"

Dead Annie growled at the notion of her being in love with the likes of him. "I have no such emotion for you, you land-lubing scat sucker!" she screamed.

"Well, no need to shout obscenities, my dove. We're all civilized people…and zombies..." Reaver murmured.

The apparition had no patience for Reaver's lack of finesse when dealing with the dead. "You…you were the one that turned my crew against me, fed me false information about the spoils coming to port, and watched as I sailed to my death." She screamed, her cutlass pointed at Reaver.

"I had to get rid of you, somehow. Your crew needed a new captain, and after I killed a few of them, the rest happily agreed. I knew you wouldn't give up your crew so easily, so I had to start a mutiny. It was quite entertaining, to be honest…" Reaver laughed.

She glared at him with her one eye. "I have waited a long time for this. I feel disappointed, though…you don't look like a pirate or the 'King of Thieves' that the wisps tell me of. You look more like…a fop…"

Her acidic insult barely fazed Reaver; he could honestly say he'd been called worse. "Time is an incurable disease, 'me hearty'. One must keep with the times, move on the greener pastures, as they say. Too bad you never had the opportunity I had. Of course, I must thank you…"

"Why thank the one who is about to rip your spine out and beat you to death with it?" the apparition asked.

Keeping himself oddly composed, Reaver grinned at the apparition and chuckled softly. "If not for you, I'd have never gotten into pirating and never have heard about the seal. The only downside to you dying is that it took me so long to find the map you left behind to where the seal was located. You could have avoided your own horrible demise if you had just handed it over when I asked you nicely…"

Her one eye twitching, Dead Annie summoned more of her hollow crew. "Kill anything that moves on this ship, but leave Reaver to me." She commanded, as the wisps disappeared around the ship. "My revenge is at hand, Reaver! You'll not slink your way out of this, you slimy dog!"

Below deck, the screams of the crew men woke up the servants. They heard knocking at their door and watched as Reavie, still on the bottom bunk, hissed and growled. All the servants standing at the back of the room, hoping it was Barry or Reaver. Gordon slowly reached under his mattress for a weapon he fashioned earlier. He didn't trust the crew, and at that moment, he felt fashioning a bludgeon out of a piece of a stray pipe he found in the kitchen was probably the best idea he's had.

The knocking got louder as Gordon got closer to the door. Before he could touch the door knob, the door exploded, sending pieces of wood everywhere. Dead Annie's hollow crew stood at the door. Before Gordon could act, Reavie attacked the hollow man in front, giving the servants a chance to escape to the deck. Miss Sarah stopped dead in her tracks as they passed the kitchen. She ran inside, picked up a frying pan and ran toward the brig swinging.

"Where is she going?" screamed Beryl, as the hollow crew chased them.

"Probably to get Mr. Hatch, now move!" yelled Gordon, pushing the others toward the deck.

"Mr. Hatch!" yelled Miss Sarah, as she smashed her way through hollow crew men. The brittle bones exploded as she smacked her way to Barry's room. She reached his room but found it empty. Miss Sarah ran toward the brig, but found nothing but piles of hollow crew bones. She backed up slowly and found herself in one's grasp.

Before she could scream, its head blew off. Barry smiled as the hollow crew man's head hit the ground. "I found a rifle." He smiled. She ran up to him and smiled.

"I came back to find you! What's going on?" she asked, as he took her hand and led her toward the deck. "Dead Annie is here." He said, without emotion. "The legend is true, apparently." Barry interrupted, holding the rifle in his other hand. "Where did everyone go?" he asked, turning his head to face her.

"Up top, I believe." Miss Sarah said, holding her frying pan weapon close. They both raced toward the deck, where they could hear the wind howling.

Each servant stood in front of the hollow crew, which surrounded them. "Hey, you guys; remember that time our ringleader had us fight off that band of mercenaries that came after him?" said Rosie, calmly. Each one nodded. Rosie cracked her knuckles and put her fists up. "Same applies here." She said, with a weird smile. Everyone gained the same smile and charged the hollow crew head on.

Rosie took the hollow men on the left with an energy that amazed the dead men. Each punch landed precisely, with jaws cracking and bones breaking, making them explode into dust. She dodged each attempted attack with relative ease and barely changed her expression.

Beryl hopped onto a crate and stood on her hands, attacking with wild kicks from every angle imaginable. She hopped off the crate and attached herself to a hollow man's neck, snapping it with her knees and then jumping down. Two hollow men rushed her from both sides. She proceeded to do a fast split and let the two crash into each other, spraying the area with hollow men dust.

Reaver didn't have to look behind himself at the mayhem his servants were causing. He just kept staring at Dead Annie with a self-satisfying smirk. Dead Annie watched as her hollow crew dissipated into dust one by one. "Your crew sure knows how to put on a show." She said, in her ghoulish fashion.

"Ex-circus performers." Reaver muttered, glancing behind him for a moment. Dead Annie nodded, watching the spectacle.

Willa stood in front of a whole crowd of hollow crew men, all of which towered over her. Willa looked around for a weapon, but found only a fallen beam. "How oddly convenient!" she shouted happily as she grabbed it. Willa focused all her strength and picked up the beam as if picking up a stick. She balanced herself and smiled deviously. "Come at me, bro." she growled as she started mowing down hollow men.

Gordon joined Rosie in the fray and they stood back to back. "Rosie, give me a leg up." He said, calmly. Rosie joined her hands together and tossed Gordon into the air. The hollow men watched as Gordon grabbed a line and swung himself into the crowd, one leg out. He could feel the rain hitting him as he swung into each hollow man. Gordon grabbed Rosie from the crowd as he swung by and landed perfectly on both feet.

"Gangway!" Miss Sarah's battle cry could be heard for miles as she and Barry charged frying pan first into the fray.

Reaver smiled as he watched his servants act like pirates. "It makes me proud…" he said, pretending to wipe a tear for his eye. Dead Annie started growling and then let out a loud shriek which destroyed her hollow crew.

"Enough games, you sad excuse for a pirate! I place the black spot on you! No wisps, just swords!" Dead Annie lunged at Reaver, cutlass slicing the air sharply as he dodged each swipe.

"You've gotten slow, Annie!" he mocked as he backed himself toward his servants.

"Tough talk for a man with no sword to fight back with!" shouted Annie, lunging at him. With smooth grace, Reaver bent down and picked the dagger out of his boot.

He raised it just in time to block Dead Annie's next swipe. "That butter knife won't stop me!" she shouted. "I've sailed these seas for hundreds of years, waiting for the moment I could have my revenge on my former first mate!" she screamed as she slashed at Reaver, who dodged and blocked with inhuman grace.

"You would have just stood in my way. I had bigger ambitions than to be some deck hand!" he slashed at her with his dagger, cutting her skin.

She bled no blood. She only whaled loudly, shaking the boat violently. "When I found you, you were nothing but a farm boy who barely had enough gold to get drunk at the end of the night. I should have known you would betray me, as fast as you rose through the ranks!"

The two seemed to be fighting into forever, with the servants watching, huddled together as the icy rain continued to fall upon the ship. "Should we help him?" asked Miss Sarah.

"No, she'd kill us in a heartbeat or he'd kill us for getting in the way." said Barry.

Willa looked off the side of the ship and thought she saw a glimmer of light through the rain and fog. "Hey, what time is it?" she asked.

Barry fished his pocket watch out of his pocket and opened it. His eyes widened. "If the legend is true, which at this point there is no doubt in my mind that it is, then the battle should be ending soon."

Reaver deflected each hit with a maniacal smile and with one last trick, he pointed his gun and shot her hand off, still clenching her sword. "Still a tricky one, I see. But I don't need it to squeeze the life out of you!" she grabbed his throat with her remaining hand and pinned him to the mast, making him drop his dagger and gun. "You'll like being a part of my crew again, Reaver; your servants will enjoy it too. I'll regale them with the story of how you came to be called Reaver…" her grip tightened and her boney nails dug into his skin, his hands trying to pry her off.

He looked as if gasping to say something. "Speak louder, Reaver dear…tell your crew your last words are." She loosened the grip on his neck and he gasped loudly.

"You always…told me you enjoyed the sunrise…" he pointed to the horizon. Dead Annie looked behind herself and saw the grey sunlight piercing through her fog. With a terrifying shriek, Dead Annie lit up brightly and exploded in a cloud of gold dust as the sun dissipated the fog and rain.

Reaver fell to the deck and rubbed his neck as his servants ran to him. "Are you alright, Mr. Reaver?" Gordon asked, as he and Barry helped Reaver up.

"I'm fine…" he muttered, dusting himself off.

Beryl looked around at the chaos the hollow crew caused and readjusted her glasses. "Is she…I mean, has she…"

"Gone? Crossed over? Doubtful." answered Reaver, as he picked up his gun and dagger. Making his way below deck, Reaver looked only briefly at Barry and the others. "Hatch, help the servants clean up this mess. We should be arriving soon, and I don't want the good people of Bloodstone to get the wrong idea. When you're done, go and see if any deck hands survived. I need a drink…and a nap."

The servants sighed and watched Reaver disappear below deck. As Reaver walked to his room, he found Reavie shaking off hollow man dust and prancing happily toward him. "Well, you missed the fight up top, but I guess you can hold your own when push comes to shove." said Reaver, as he picked up the cat. "Care to share my bed with me? It looks like we could both use a nap…" Reaver closed the door to his room softly.

The ship finally came to port a few hours later. The men working on the docks saw the chaos that adorned the deck, and said nothing as the exhausted servants disembarked and made their way to the carriage waiting.

Reaver, carrying the cat, looked at the horizon and smiled. "Until we meet again…captain." He muttered to himself and followed his servants.

* * *

><p>Two weeks came and went. Reaver and his servants were heading back to Lakeview Manor, but this time, on a train. Reaver sat in his private train car with the cat playing with a moth fluttering around a nearby lamp. "I wish I had your energy…but not your attention span." He said to the cat. He filled his pen and opened his journal.<p>

"_Alas, my dear journal, our demented family vacation has come to an end. After much begging from 'me hearty crew', I broke down and bought us some train tickets back to Bowerstone. A bit more expensive than sailing and I threatened to take it out of their pay, but I don't think the servants cared, as long as it meant not having to deal with the undead forces again. They are being good sports about having to sleep in the coach seats. I must admit, it was fun reliving my pirate days, but alas, those days are behind me now."_

Reaver heard a small crash and looked up. The cat knocked over a chair in her pointless attempts to catch the moth. Reaver sighed happily and continued to write.

"_The ritual, I am happy to report, went smoothly this year. Go to a brothel, make a few empty promises to a down on her luck whore, and things seem to just happen on their own. The seal always reappears when it is time for the ritual to happen again, and this year it came at a bad time. I hope next time we don't hit any snags. I wonder, though…I've sailed to Bloodstone each year for the ritual, but Dead Annie never appeared once to me. I wonder what coaxed her out. She was always on opportunist, even in life. One of her flaws. I assume she was just biding her time…she sure has plenty of it, now. I feel so rejuvenated, and the servants were quick with compliments the morning after the ritual was done."_

Reaver leaned back and watched the scenery go by as the train passed through the dense forest. At night, the swamps and forests were a creepy reminder of who he used to be. The cat, having given up her pursuit, rested happily on Reaver's lap. With a smile, Reaver's eyes became heavy.

"I await our next battle, Captain…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Okie, so I lied about the muffins lol. Won't happen again, I promise. I had an idea, but I couldn't go anywhere with it. I kept stopping mid paragraph, so I scrapped it and just used the next story.<strong>

**By the way, a water closet used to refer to a room with a toilet in it, but nowadays it's a slang term for a really small or dank room.**

**The legend I put in this story is actually from a short story I wrote (and lost *sad face*) a few years ago, which this chapter shares the name of. I still had my notes from the story, so I went from there. In the short story, from what I remember, two people hear of the story of a pirate named "Dead Annie" of whom they meet and have to fight, along with her zombie crew. I only have the notes, so I couldn't go by much. I just tweaked the legend a bit to make it fit haha. Not hard, give her a bone to pick (sorry) with Reaver and change her zombie crew to Hollow Men.**

**You know, I like this legend a lot. I might make it a stand-alone fan-fic, should the inspiration (and the rest of the notes from the short story) ever arise.**

**Sorry about the battle sequences being a bit uninspired, I'm not good at writing them, so I try not to include a lot of them in my stories. But apparently pirate lingo I am good at haha.**

**Next time: Cute stuff…lots of it. The next chapter might be short, but we'll see how it goes, right me hearties?**

**Don't forget to review! I appreciate all criticism, but prefer positive haha.**

**Tatty-bye, my friends!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead**


	8. Accosted by the Cute and Frilly

_Reaver's Servants_

Accosted by the Cute and Frilly

Barry bit into the chocolate bar he bought for himself as he walked among the crowd of the Marketplace. He looked at his list of things to get, and frowned. It was supposed to be a pleasant afternoon of errand running, but instead turned into a chore. That would be the last time he asked anyone if they needed anything while he was out.

"_Could you pick up some baking chocolate for me, Mr. Hatch?" asked Miss Sarah. Barry happily nodded with a goofy grin._

"_I need some more powdered detergent." said Rosie. Barry shrugged and nodded._

"_The garden has a horrible bug problem. Grab some bug repellent while you're out." said Gordon. Barry nodded._

"_I could go for some cherry fizzy pop! We're out." smiled Beryl. Barry sighed and nodded._

"_Reavie needs some tuna! I forgot to pick some up. Could you…?" chirped Willa, happily holding Reavie. Barry sighed._

"_I need more pipe tobacco. Well? What are you waiting for? Chop-chop!" commanded Reaver. Barry grudgingly nodded and bowed._

He sighed softly and looked at his purchases. "Alright, I have just about everything…except the fizzy pop." He whispered to himself, as he shuffled things throughout the bag. He looked up to make sure he wasn't about to walk into anything.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he almost bumped into a small child holding a stuffed bunny. "Oh, so sorry, little one." He said, as he stopped. He looked at the little girl, who said nothing. "Alright then…" he said, somewhat confused as he walked around her. The little girl looked at him as he passed by. She smiled wide and followed him, holding her stuffed bunny tightly.

Barry bit into his chocolate bar again and looked around for the drink vendor. He couldn't help but hear small pitter-patter behind him, as if being followed by a puppy. Looking behind himself, he saw nothing, until he looked down. The little girl he almost bumped into.

By how she was dressed, the girl looked like a noble's child. Her dress was pink and frilly, and her stuffed bunny didn't look second-hand or anything Reaver probably made in his factories. She had a big cute bow on the back of her nicely kept blonde hair. Her blue eyes were big, and so was her smile. Her eyes glowed with a certain spark of adorable evil.

"Well, hello there, you cute little thing, how can Barry Hatch help you?" he asked, bending down. The girl smiled and pointed to his candy bar. "Oh? You want some chocolate? Well, would your parents mind it if I gave you some?" he asked, waving his chocolate bar in front of her.

The girl didn't answer. "Well, it's not healthy to eat after other people. I bought the chocolate at the candy store, so have your parents…" he didn't finish his sentence. The girl grabbed the candy bar and zoomed off. "Hey! You little brat!" he yelled as she ran away. "Damn noble kids…" he muttered as he stood up.

Shuffling around in the bag, Barry took out the baking chocolate. "Good thing I bought extra baking chocolate. I'm sure Miss Sarah won't mind." He assured himself, as he unwrapped a small piece. One nibble and he found himself running to a nearby trash can to spit it out. "Oh, by the gods, what the hell?" he said, in between spits. He stood up and found himself the spectacle of three middle-class children's amusement. He ignored them and continued his walk.

He walked across the bridge toward a drink vender, and couldn't help but notice his steps had an echo. He stopped and listened carefully. Nothing. He started walking again, and the sound returned. He looked behind himself and still found nothing. He walked in time with the swishing of his bag and as he took a big step, he turned around and found the little girl attempting to run and hide. "Ah-HA!" he yelled and pointed.

"I hope you've come to return my chocolate bar to me." He muttered, as he bent down to face the girl. The girl just stared at him with her big blue eyes. "No…that isn't it. You've probably already eaten it all by now anyway." Barry got up and started walking away, but heard her frilly dress swishing behind him.

Barry stopped again and looked behind him. "What do you want?" he asked sternly. The girl just stared at him, holding her bunny tightly. He didn't know why, but something about the little girl gave Barry a feeling of calm dread. "Look, I'm busy. Go find some kids your own age to play with."

Walking hastily away, he could hear the little girl's shoes going (or at least trying to) the same speed as him. When he figured he finally lost her after darting around a few corners, Barry wiped his brow of the sweat and leaned against a wall to catch his breath. He made a mental note to exercise more and found the drink vender.

"Hello, Mr. Hatch! The usual? I can't imagine what you all cook at that manor to go through so much cooking sherry." asked the drink vender. "No, Lorraine, not today. Do you have any cherry fizzy pop?" Barry asked, holding up his list. "Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. We just ran out. That little girl over there bought the last few bottles." The drink vender pointed to the little girl, holding the bunny doll. Barry sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

Barry walked to the little girl, who had a bag full of full fizzy pop bottles. He watched as she guzzled down a bottle of the red bubbly pop. "You're a noble child, so I assume you have a large enough allowance to afford all that pop. But I'm sure a cute little girl like you doesn't need all that. May I have a few? I'll pay you..." Barry reached into his pocket and took out a two gold coins. The girl popped another bottle opened and guzzled it down.

His right eye twitching, Barry added one more gold coin to his hand. "Please?" Barry smiled, trying not to look angry. The little girl popped open another bottle and guzzled it down as well. "I really need that cherry fizzy pop, and I'd rather not go into Old Quarter or Industrial to get it, seeing as it's a long walk for me. Now, may I please...?" the little girl took the three gold he was holding and gave him a half empty bottle before running away. "You little con-artist!" he yelled as he threw the bottle down.

The drink vender stopped Barry before he could take off after her. "Mr. Hatch…she's a little girl. Is harassing her really worth getting in trouble with the guards?" she asked. Barry stopped and sighed. "Lorraine, some cooking sherry, please."

Barry, chugging the cooking sherry and gaining a few stares from passersby for doing so while walking, made his way toward the Old Quarter. He looked around and made sure a certain pink and frilly trouble-maker wasn't following him and threw the empty sherry bottle in a trash can. A sigh of relief, he walked toward the drink vender and bought the rest of their cherry fizzy pop.

Feeling he earned it, Barry popped one fizzy pop bottle open and placed the top to his lips. He glanced over and saw the little girl staring up at him again. He tried to ignore her and started drinking his pop. She got closer to him, like a puppy begging for a piece of food from its owner. "Leave me alone…" he muttered as he drank. Barry scooted away from her slowly, but she followed him.

An evil grin on his face, Barry quickly thought of a way to get rid of the little girl. "Hey, Little One…I've been too hard on you today. I bet you just want a playmate." He knelt down to the girl's level and looked her in the eyes. "How about we start again, ehh, Oobie-Loobie?" Barry reached into his bag and pulled out some (baking) chocolate. "Don't be afraid, little 'un. Barry Hatch won't hurt you. It's a peace offering."

The little girl gave him a skeptical look and apprehensively took the piece of (baking) chocolate. Barry watched with a disgusting sense of satisfaction as she bit into the chocolate and grimaced. He laughed loudly and walked away as the little girl made sputtering noises with her mouth. He then felt a rock hit him on the back of the head. Barry turned around, saw the little girl stick her tongue out at him, and zoom off. _Just let it go, Hatch…_ he thought as he rubbed the back of his head.

Finally finished with his errands, Barry exhaustingly made his way back to the marketplace, but not before stopping for another snack. He waited in line for ice cream, trying not to think too hard about the day's events. "Thank the gods for these new-fangled mobile ice cream carts." He whispered as his turn came up. "A scoop of peach ice cream, please." Barry paid the man and took his ice cream cone happily. Nodding his thank you, Barry walked out of the way and sat under a nearby statue to enjoy his treat.

Before he could get one lick, he looked up and saw the little girl again. She pointed to his ice cream and smiled. "Oh? You want some of my ice cream? I'm sure the gold you stole from me is enough to buy your own." He licked his ice cream cone mockingly as the girl stared at him, holding her bunny tightly. "Mmm…yummy ice cream. Its peach flavored. My favorite flavor. Is it yours too, little one?" he asked as the girl cocked her head a bit.

The girl's expression didn't change. "You know, your expression reminds me of my friend, Rosie. She's a maid at the place I work at. Vacant, lack-luster, though quick-witted and dangerous. Of course, your height reminds me of one of the other maids." He laughed, as he licked his ice cream. "Congrats, Oobie-Loobie, you're probably the only person in Albion shorter than Willa." He laughed. The girl apparently didn't appreciate Barry's sense of humor.

The girl smiled wide and threw her bunny toy at him. In a panic, he dropped his ice cream. He shook the doll off of him to see the little girl running off again. He stopped panicking long enough to see his new treasure. Laughing maniacally, Barry shook the bunny in the air. "Joke's on you! I have your bunny now!" he laughed loudly, people stopping to look at him. He quieted down and sat, softly apologizing to everyone for bothering them.

The girl did notice her arms were empty, and turned around. Barry walked off, carrying her bunny doll under his arm. The little girl ran after him, a sad and worried look on her little face. Barry smiled evilly and stuffed the doll in his shopping bag.

Barry walked happily back to the Marketplace; in his bag, sat the girl's bunny doll. He knew the girl was following him again, he could hear her little shoes. "Teach you…I think bunny might want to go for a swim." He cackled evilly as he walked to the bridge in the marketplace. The girl whined softly, but said nothing.

He held the bunny over the edge of the bridge, the girl looking scared. "Now, apologize to me and Mr. Bunny here doesn't get hurt." He snickered. The girl looked on in horror as Barry shook her bunny doll over the edge. "No apologies, ehh? No apologies for stealing my chocolate, or taking my gold, or just making my day miserable?" Barry made it look like the bunny was walking along the ledge. "I hope Mr. Bunny can swim!"

Before he could throw the bunny, the little girl jumped on him and started wailing on him with her tiny fists. Barry ran around, trying to shake the little girl off, gaining the attention of the people in the market. Some laughed, some pointed in shock, while some went to notify a guard.

Barry ran across the bridge many times screaming bloody murder while trying to shake her off. The girl tugged at his hair, hit him with her tiny fists, and even bit him a few times.

He finally grabbed a hold of her and tossed her on the ground. Luckily, she landed softly on her bunny doll. Barry, finally reaching his breaking point, balled up his fists and slowly approached the girl. "Alright, you little brat…I am done playing this sick little game of yours. Someone needs to give you a spanking…" Before he could do anything, a group of guards surrounded him, guns pointed at his neck.

"Hands up!" one shouted. Barry put his hands up and watched the little girl get up, dust herself off, and skip away, happily dragging her bunny behind her. The guards handcuffed him and led him away.

"Officers! That little girl…" Barry tried to plead with the guards, but they forcefully led him to a holding cell.

"We'll notify your employer that you're here." said the one locking his cell, pointing to Barry's uniform jacket. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself; a grown man harassing a little girl like that. I don't know what that Reaver allows at his place, but we don't allow that kind of treatment here!"

"You don't understand! That child is evil!" he yelled, pointing to the little girl, as she made her way toward two adults, whom he assumed were her parents.

"Quiet down, in there!" yelled the guard, hitting the bars with the butt of his gun.

Barry sat in the small cell for a few hours, next to his shopping bag, which was recovered after the struggle and thrown in with him. Most of his purchases were damaged, but at this point, Barry could care less. "This way, Miss." said a guard, pointing to the cell.

Barry looked up and saw Miss Sarah, in her uniform, holding her blue coin curse. "Mr. Reaver sent me to pay your bail." She said softly, as the guard let Barry out. "He said you're lucky you're the only one who knows how he likes his tea." She added, as Barry picked up the bag and walked to her.

After paying the guard, Miss Sarah walked with Barry back to Millfields as he told her his story. Miss Sarah was probably the only one who remotely believed him. "You believe me?" he asked, with a blush.

Miss Sarah nodded. "You've never given me a reason not to." She answered.

Barry sighed and held up the bag. "Well, you might be the only one. I'm sorry to say, but our goods our damaged."

Miss Sarah looked into the bag and pulled out what wasn't damaged. "Well, so much for Beryl's fizzy pop and the tuna Willa asked for. But look at the bright side: my baking chocolate is fine, and the pipe tobacco Mr. Reaver wanted isn't too wet. Rosie's powered detergent looks like it hasn't gotten wet, but didn't Gordon ask for bug repellent?" she asked softly, putting the undamaged items in her handbag.

"Yeah, but the bottle was too big to carry in the bag, so I'm having it delivered to the manor. It should be there by now." Barry looked up at the sky, seeing the sun not yet setting.

"Mr. Hatch, don't be discouraged. I have some fish in the icebox I can chop up for Reavie, and Beryl won't mind not getting her fizzy pop, she figured you'd forget anyway." The walk through Millfields was a much welcome relief to Barry, who felt like he had just been through cute and frilly Hell. "You shouldn't be so hard on such a small child." said Miss Sarah, holding her handbag close. Barry blushed softly and looked at the lake, and how the sun's reflection bounced off Miss Sarah's blushing cheeks.

"I guess the whole experience has knocked the thought of having children out of your head." Miss Sarah giggled with a warm smile.

"Ahh, one bad apple doesn't spoil the bunch, they say, Miss Sarah. I can see myself having kids…just none like that little pink demon." He growled.

Barry noticed Miss Sarah wasn't beside him anymore. He looked over to the path going closer to the lake. Miss Sarah, bending over, cooed happily at something. "You are so sweet, but you don't want this chocolate, sweety…it's baking chocolate, it's not very good. Come by Lakeview Manor later, and I'll have some cookies ready. I always make extra, so Mr. Reaver won't mind…"

Barry's eyes widened when he saw the bunny doll poking its head from the side, almost mocking him. He felt his right eye twitching again as he dashed down the path toward them.

"Miss Sarah! NO!" Barry grabbed Miss Sarah and picked her up, wedding style, and ran as fast as his legs could carry them toward the manor and away from the little girl.

The little girl giggled softly to herself and hugged her bunny tightly. "Mr. Bunny…I think the orange haired man likes the lady that smells like cookies." The girl said finally, sitting next to the lake. "What's that?" she asked the stuffed bunny, holding it up. "No, I don't think he meant to be mean to us today. He's just a silly man working for the weird guy in the big hat with eyes."

The girl smiled softly and hugged the bunny again. "Yes…she likes him too…but he can figure that out on his own!"

"Mary-Ellen! Time for supper!" shouted a voice from down the path. The little girl ran happily toward the nice house, dragging her bunny doll behind her.

* * *

><p>Reaver took a puff from his pipe while sitting outside in the garden, enjoying the summer weather. "Hmm…I wonder what brand Barry got, this tobacco tastes like cherries." He muttered as he took another puff. "It's rather nice…" he added, as he opened his journal and took out a pen.<p>

"_Hatch may be incompetent sometimes, but I must say, he sure can pick out delicious pipe tobacco. I had to send Miss Sarah up to Bowerstone with some gold to bail him out of jail. Apparently, he and some child were causing trouble in town today. I hate children, personally, so I'm inclined to believe Barry. He came back carrying Miss Sarah "over the threshold" style, screaming like a raving maniac. He can be such a basket case sometimes. Though, it was funny, I must say. I hope Miss Sarah finishes those cookies soon."_

The wind blew softly in Reaver's direction as Rosie put out the laundry to dry. "Ahh, I love the smell of laundry drying on a clothesline. Odd, it kind of smells like cherry fizzy pop." He remarked, placing his pen down.

Reaver took another puff from his pipe and looked over to his side. There, stood a little girl holding a bunny doll. "What are you doing here, you little bother?"

The little girl's eyes sparkled in an evil fashion and she hugged her bunny tightly. Reaver's right eye twitched.

"What are you doing…get away from me!"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Don't worry, she won't hurt Reaver. She's just about to make the next hour or so a living hell for him while he tries to get rid of her.<strong>

**I got the idea for this insanity while listening to probably the cutest song I have ever heard; a cover of Green Day's "Basket Case" by seiyu Haruna Ikezawa. That's what I imagined the little girl's theme to be while she's chasing Barry all over Bowerstone. Why was she tormenting him all day? Who knows. Kids, right?**

**The next few chapters I am going to try and focus on the backstories of the servants. They have interesting stories to tell, and I think you guys will love it.**

**It's weird for me to use the word "pop" when referring to soda, as I am from the south, and usually just call it "soda" like a normal person (lol just kidding, pop/soda, it's all the same).**

**Little factoids: Baking chocolate is chocolate which is intended for use in baking. It is unpalatable in plain form, but when combined with other ingredients to make things like cakes, cookies, and brownies, it imparts a very intense chocolate flavor. So, sadly, until baked, it's very bitter.**

**Another factoid: accosted means to confront boldly.**

**I took some artistic liberties with the technology Albion has. I'm not familiar with the "Industrial border lining on steampunk" genres, so I just improvised. I mean, they have cameras in Fable II, so why not ice cream carts, right?**

**Okie, my lovelies, don't forget to review! I appreciate criticism, but I prefer positive, haha.**

**Tatty-bye, my friends!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	9. Dream a Little Dream

_Reaver's Servants_

Dream a Little Dream

The symphony of late night Albion lulled the residents of Lakeview Manor into a peaceful summer sleep. Each person slept comfortably and dreamed. Except Reaver.

Reaver sat in his office and drank his midnight wine. "I should really stop drinking late at night." Reaver whispered to himself. He wasn't sure why, but lately his home office had become something of a sanctuary to him. He often sat here on sleepless nights and drank until he went unconscious and had to be poked awake by one of the servants when they find him sleeping in his office chair.

But not tonight. Reaver whistled a jaunty tune and stared out the window, smiling up at the midnight moon. Reaver looked over at the corner of the room and found sleeping Reavie nuzzled against a pillow in her basket. He didn't want to admit it, but he had gotten used to sharing his office with the little tabby cat. He walked over to the basket and patted the cat on her little head.

Reaver cocked his head to the side and saw Reavie moving around in her sleep. "I wonder what kinds of things cats dream about…" Reaver slipped on his bedroom shoes (which he slipped off under the desk) and walked along the hallway back to his room. He touched Barry's door softly as he passed by.

Reaver could faintly hear the snores from Barry inside. "For that matter, I wonder what the servants dream about…"

_Barry's Dream_

_Barry turned over slowly, holding one of his pillows close to him. Drool coming from the corner of his mouth, Barry muttered softly and reached out his arm. "Ohhh…Miss Sarah…I'll save you…"_

Wearing green tunic, a green cap and holding his sword high, Barry ran toward the tower where the fair Miss Sarah was being kept. "Mr. Hatch! Help me!" she yelled from her prison high atop the tower. Barry summoned all his courage and ran inside the tower, slaying the demons in his way. He slashed through hollow man and balverine alike in his quest to save Miss Sarah. He had traveled through thick forests, vanquished fire dragons and shadow demons, slayed witches who tried to tempt him, and nearly died in an underwater temple.

Nothing could stop Barry, not even the traps in the stairs or the falling rocks. Finally approaching the room, Barry kicked the door down and found Miss Sarah tied to a post, with a green monster (wearing Reaver's clothes, which he figured was a coincidence) laughing evilly next to her. "You'll never defeat me, Hatch!" the monster yelled (Barry noted the monster sounded like Reaver too, but again, coincidence).

"Have at you, horrid beast!" Barry's sword shined with the glow of the mighty sun and he lunged at the monster. The monster knocked him down with a ball of light. Barry flew to the corner of the room and quickly picked himself up.

"Hey, Barry!" shouted a small blue winged wisp by his shoulder. The wisp looked like Willa. "Listen! Try knocking the ball of light back at him when he throws it at you!" Barry nodded and as soon as the monster threw another light orb at him, Barry swung his sword and deflected it back. The ball hit the monster dead on. The monster screamed in agony and exploded into gold dust.

Barry ran to the post and untied Miss Sarah. "My hero!" she sang as she hugged him around his neck. Both hero and Princess brought their faces closer for a kiss.

_Barry smiled a goofy smile, snorted and rolled over again, rolling off his bed._

_Willa's Dream_

_Willa moaned softly and brought her covers closer to her as she shivered. She had a teddy bear under one arm, which she cuddled softly. Her unhappy grimace quickly turned to a smile._

Willa, in her circus outfit, watched from the sidelines as her father, Olaf the Strongman, impressed crowds with his unbelievable strength. Willa was nervous, and it was obvious. "And now, making her debut, Olaf's daughter, Wilhelmina!" shouted the announcer. Willa hated her proper name, but dismissed it as she joined her father in the ring.

"Wilhelmina! Join your papa!" shouted her father, his accent bringing her joy.

"She may not look like much, ladies and gents, but don't be fooled by her small stature! Good things often come in small packages! Wilhelmina is the second strongest person in this circus! Just don't challenge her to an arm wrestling contest! Her father personally trained her from a young age, and he's now accepting offers for her hand in marriage!" laughed the announcer. The crowd laughed along.

"Ready to show them real strength, Wilhelmina?" asked her father.

"Yes, Daddy!" she shouted happily as her father picked her up and placed her on his shoulders.

"And now, Wilhelmina will show off her strength, and with the help of her father and friends, she will bring down the moon for you all to see!" shouted the announcer. Olaf threw his daughter into the air, but Willa wasn't scared, it felt like she was flying. Willa passed the crowds in the stands, the acrobats swinging to and fro, and then to the stars. Willa floated past the stars, seeing her friends (in their circus outfits) swinging from them on little swings.

"Go Willa!" shouted Miss Sarah, swinging under her star.

"You're awesome!" shouted Beryl, flying by on her shooting star.

"We're rooting for you, Willa!" shouted Rosie, holding onto her star swing by her arms.

"You're almost there!" shouted Gordon, hanging by his knees from his swing under his star.

Willa finally reached the moon, which was a giant glowing orb. Behind it, Reaver and Barry poked their heads out and smiled at Willa, as she grabbed the moon. "Congrats, Little Bit. I knew you could do it." said Reaver, with Barry nodding happily, giving her a thumbs up.

Slowly floating down, Willa waved to her friends, holding the big glowing orb with one hand. She floated down, and her father caught her. "The moon, ladies and gents!" shouted the announcer, as Willa's friends floated down after her, clapping along with the crowd.

"We did it, Daddy!" Willa shouted happily as put the moon down and hugged her father.

"Remember, I'll always love you, Wilhelmina. And I'm proud of you." He whispered softly as he hugged his daughter tight.

_Willa moaned softly and smiled, cuddling her teddy bear._

_Rosie's Dream_

_Rosie's candle was just about out. It wasn't that she was scared of the dark…nothing like that. She just hated falling asleep in pitch blackness. She sniffled a bit and shifted herself._

Rosie, her hood up, walked through the woods to a caravan. "Alright, you summoned me…and for once I listened. Now what do you want?" she asked forcefully.

The hooded figure did not face Rosie. "I know what you are. I know you're exploiting your gifts for profit."

Rosie scoffed and folded her arms. "How can I exploit a flaw?" she asked; her question acidic.

"You need training for your gift to work properly." The figure said. "You left too soon." The figure, still not showing their face, walked to Rosie and handed her a deck of cards. "You shouldn't have left so soon. You could have been great…" the figure walked back to the caravan.

"I didn't want to be a seer." said Rosie, defensively. "I didn't want to be like the one in the Spire: always watching, never doing."

"Now, now, Rosie, no need to get defensive. The One in the Spire didn't send me. She has better things to do than watch over a wayward Gypsie." said the figure. "I'm not saying give up everything. I agree with you, actually. Why waste your life and talents sitting in a moldy tower when you can live a happy life?"

She was starting to notice the figure had the same attitude as a certain blonde scoundrel she'd rather forget. "Look at the cards…" said the figure. "Your destiny is your own…" Rosie took the cards. She shuffled them and noticed they held her friends. "The same applies to that of your troupe." The cards started floating around her. "No one can tell you what your destiny is, be it a seer or mortal." The figure's voice told her as the cards glowed and danced around her. Rosie smiled softly and started dancing too. She could hear a Gypsie's violin playing. For once, Rosie felt safe in the dark.

Rosie danced, as a Gypsie tribe with caravans appeared around her, clapping along to the bells on her feet. The hooded figure approached her and took off the hood. It was Ben Finn. Rosie stared at him in shock as she stopped dancing. "Don't punch me; I just came by to give you advice. Now that I have, I thought it'd be safe to take off my hood." He said, holding his hands up. The music kept playing as she stared at Ben. "If I knew your dreams were this exciting, I would have started appearing in them long ago." He said, folding his arms.

Sighing angrily, Rosie just stared at Ben. "Why, of all people, would you be in my dream giving me advice? You can't even take advice when it's given to you, Mr. 'I-Bet-I-Can-Fight-The-Strongman-and-Win'." Rosie folded her arms as Ben laughed.

"Rosie, any idiot can pick up a deck of cards and say fancy things." said Ben, holding his hand out and letting the cards pile into his hand. "But only someone special can see past the fancy things and see the real deal. Don't let those abilities of yours go to waste. Don't neglect your gift. If you're going to exploit it, at least do it properly." said Ben, with a smirk.

The Gypsie music got louder, and Rosie couldn't help but dance. The cards flew out of Ben's hand and started to flow around her again. Rosie danced as if she could see the music moving with her.

_Rosie grasped something in her hand as she smiled, her foot wagging in her sleep. A little box of tarot cards sat under her relaxed hand, and under the deck sat a sepia toned photograph of her and Ben, taken when she still worked at the circus._

_Beryl's Dream_

_Beryl had fallen asleep with her glasses on again. They slid around her upper face as she shifted in her sleep. She had been reading before, and nodded off during a good part. The book lay open on her chest._

Beryl found herself sitting on the floor, her glasses in front of her. Feeling her face, Beryl reached to pick them up, but they jumped away.

"Hey! Come back!" she shouted to her glasses, as she chased them. "I'm practically blind without you!" she whined as she ran after her wayward glasses.

She chased them until they stopped at someone's feet. She picked up her glasses and put them on. Towering over her was Reaver with a smile. "Ahh, hello there, Beryl. I've been waiting for you." He said, with a smile.

"Waiting for me, Mr. Reaver?" asked Beryl, somewhat confused.

"Of course, my dear. You are my date for this ball! I was scared you wouldn't show!" Beryl looked down and suddenly noticed she was wearing a ball gown. "I wouldn't dream of dancing without you, my sweet." He said, as he took her hand. Beryl blushed softly as he guided her to the dance floor. It felt as if they were dancing on air. "You are quite graceful, Beryl." He remarked, as the floor turned to sky and the party patrons turned to birds.

He twirled her as the music played softly. Beryl blushed as he brought her closer. "Oh, Mr. Reaver!" she giggled and looked down. She panicked as she saw they were now in the air. It was at that point that she started to fall.

Luckily, her dress puffed out and acted as a parachute of sorts. "Oh my…" she mumbled as she slowly descended. The night sky passed by her, her friends dressed in fancy clothing floating by on clouds, waving to her.

Beryl landed softly on the ground, and was greeted by a big bouquet of flowers. "Don't ever feel like you should hide behind those glasses, my dear Beryl. They may keep you from going blind, but they will keep you blind to the world unless you 'take them off' every now and then." said Reaver, tossing the bouquet in the air, making it rain flower petals.

Happily jumping among the petals, Beryl felt her hair come down and the wind pick her glasses off her face. "Open my eyes!" she shouted, as the petals flew into the air.

_Beryl giggled softly in her sleep. Her hand hit the wall as she flipped over quickly. If it hurt, she didn't show it. She moaned softly and hugged her book close._

_Gordon's Dream_

_Gordon slept like a rock, snoring softly as his dream took him away…_

For some reason, everyone was naked. Sitting among trees and bushes, everyone was naked. Gordon usually had this dream, only he was the only one naked. This time, he was the only one with clothes. Things in this dream were a little more lucid than he liked. While he never saw himself as a prude, Gordon was a guy who liked decency. Of course, if a bunch of naked women happened to stroll into the garden at any point during the day, he wasn't going to be rude and tell them to leave.

"Clothes can be quite confining…" said Beryl, lying in a tree, covered only by two branches.

Miss Sarah sat under the tree, strumming a guitar, and covered only by said guitar, humming a strange song. "Gordon, you are too constricting." She said softly, her fingers gliding across the strings.

"You are uptight." said Rosie, hanging upside down from a nearby tree, conveniently covered by two strategically placed branches. Gordon blushed and smiled.

"You can be a bit uptight sometimes." said Willa, poking her head out from under a pile of leaves. "You shouldn't be so uppity. Mr. Reaver wouldn't approve…" she added, pointing to the bench, nearby.

Gordon's eye twitched, seeing Reaver and Barry, naked except for a bowl of fruit covering Barry and Reaver having his hat in his lap. Gordon's eye twitched again as he tried not to stare. "Well, that's more of Mr. Hatch than I ever wanted to see, dream or not." Gordon muttered to himself.

"Free your mind, Gordon…" shouted Reaver happily. The girls stood up and started chanting with Reaver.

"Free your mind, Gordon…free your find, Gordon…"

_Gordon smiled lecherously in his sleep and moaned softly._

_Miss Sarah's Dream_

_Miss Sarah snuggled close to her pillow and moaned softly. Her eyes fluttered a bit in her sleep as she turned over softly._

Miss Sarah stood center-stage with a hat on a table. She could hear clapping, but saw no audience. "And now!" she heard an announcer yell. "The lovely Sarah will pull her destiny out of a hat!" she looked around for the voice, but saw nothing. Miss Sarah approached the hat and reached inside. She noted the hat looked like her boss's hat as she shuffled around inside.

She pulled out a deck of cards that turned into doves and flew away. She reached in again and pulled out silverware, which began to float around her. Reaching in again, she opened her palm and saw miniature versions of her friends, cheering for her. She softly placed them on the table and reached in again. Miss Sarah grabbed what felt like hair and tugged, pulling out Reaver.

"Well, hello there!" he shouted happily as she forced him back down with a yelp. It was then Miss Sarah noticed a small magic wand next to the hat and picked it up. She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to tap the side of the hat three times.

"One…Two…Three!" the hat suddenly started making maddening twitching movements. Fireworks, bunnies, and other things started flying out. She picked up her miniature friends and held them close as the hat shook and a boot fell out. A pair of legs popped out of the hat, then a torso, then arms, and then she watched as the person wrestled the hat off their head. The body belonged to Barry, she could tell by the uniform. Finally getting the hat off, Barry stood in front of her and smiled.

"Mr. Hatch?" she asked softly, as she placed her miniature friends down. The man dusted himself off and looked up at her. She noted he didn't look at her the same way Barry would.

"Hmm? Oh, no. I'm not your 'Mr. Hatch'." He said, waving his hand at her. He didn't talk like Barry; she noted his lack of speech impediment. "I only took his form so you'd be more comfortable talking to me. I'm what you call…" he reached into his pocket, and after tossing out a bunny and a long handkerchief, pulled out a card and read it. "'Your Subconscious Desires Manifested as Someone You Care for Deeply' or some such nonsense." He said, throwing the card behind him, where it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Miss Sarah didn't seem to understand. "I can tell by that expression that you have no idea what the holy hell I'm going on about, but don't feel bad." The man dusted himself off and picked up the boot on the ground and put it on. "I'm not here for anything fancy, just here to give you a message, and then I'll be on my way." The man cleared his throat.

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for."

Cocking an eyebrow, Miss Sarah just stared at the man. "Hey! Try another one!" shouted miniature Rosie, waving her arms to get his attention. "Alright then…how about this; Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there." He said, pointing in the air. He looked at Miss Sarah, who just stared at him.

"Oh well, I tried. I'm going to get some tea…" said the man, as he waved and disappeared.

"What is going on?" Miss Sarah asked, becoming a bit worried. A thousand voices started talking at once, overwhelming her and causing her to cover her ears. She started to run, hearing the voices and applauding, but seeing no one. Miss Sarah felt the room swirl around, she couldn't keep her balance. Nothing made sense, and she started to fall over, but someone caught her, and held her…

Everything went quiet and suddenly…everything made sense…

_Miss Sarah woke up with a jolt. She breathed heavily and felt her heart pound loudly. She wanted to be scared, but for some reason, she smiled and blushed as she laid back down, slowly allowing herself to drift back into sleep, still no sure what to make of her dream._

_Reaver's Dream_

_With the cat cuddling close to him, Reaver finally fell asleep. His sleep, however…was restless._

Reaver, in an evening jacket and smoking a pipe, read his paper with a content smile. The fire in the fireplace was roaring softly, giving the study a relaxing glow. Faceless servants walked around and tidied up as the clock started to chime loudly. Reaver glanced up with a smile when he heard footsteps coming towards him. Looking up, he saw Rosie, and grinned.

"Good evening, darling. How was your day?" asked Reaver, going back to his paper.

Smiling softly, Rosie kept her hands in front of her as her shoes clicked on the floor. "It was wonderful. I did a little shopping and then ran a few errands. The sun was shining and the water around the lake was as clear as a crystal." Rosie smiled, waiting for Reaver to join her.

"Wonderful, simply wonderful, my dove. I apologize for being late for dinner; I've been buried under paperwork all day. Tell me, did the children get to sleep alright?" he asked, placing his paper down.

Rosie seemingly glided into the room, wearing a lovely but still casual red dress and her hair in a low but still elaborate bun. When she fixed herself up and smiled, Rosie actually looked pretty nice. "Oh yes, my dearest, all tucked in and fast asleep; they didn't give the nanny an ounce of trouble today. They are so looking forward to spending the day with you by the lake tomorrow." She said, calmly.

Reaver nodded happily and set his pipe down. "Good, good…I hear their marks in school are improving." He mentioned, as he stood up.

Rosie smiled and nodded, folding her arms. "Oh yes, the smartest children in the class. I told you those tutors were a good investment." She said, wagging her finger at him. Reaver walked up to Rosie and took her hand, kissing her wagging finger.

"Oh, alright, I admit; those tutors weren't a waste of gold. You were right, as always." He chuckled and led Rosie to the foyer. "You know, my dear, you're wearing that perfume I gave you for your birthday, and you know what it does to me…" Reaver cooed as he placed his face on her neck, breathing in deeply.

"Well, shall we adjourn to the bedroom, my love?" Rosie giggled as they walked up the stairs.

"Mmm…you always know what makes me happy, my beloved." said Reaver. Hand in hand, the two ascended the stairs. "Sometimes I don't realize how lucky I am until I have you in my arms at the end of the day." Reaver cooed, kissing Rosie on the cheek. "You are indeed the only woman for me…"

_Reaver woke up from his nightmare screaming loudly, waking up the cat, the servants, and all of Millfields. Breathing heavily, he placed his hand on his head, sweat pouring off his head. He checked his hand; no ring on his ring finger. He sighed deeply in relief and caught his breath._

"Just a dream…it was only a dream…I need a drink…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my doves! <strong>

**This idea I've had since before I started the fan-fic, and I decided to finally use it! Did you guys catch the Legend of Zelda reference? I'm such a frickin' nerd.**

**The last part I believe was my absolute favorite part to write, despite how short it is. I can imagine in all his years alive, Reaver having quite a few nightmares. But I think the worst would be the one where he gives up his deviant lifestyle for a monogamous relationship. That's why I sometimes find Reaver X Whoever stories a bit hard to believe. No matter, I do enjoy reading them nonetheless.**

**Next Installment's special guest star: Former King of Albion, Logan! Give it up, ladies and gents!**

**I would like to thank everyone for their lovely reviews. Your encouragement keeps me writing. Oh! I appreciate new ideas, so if anyone has any story ideas, just drop me a line on the message thingy and I'll give full credit to whoever suggests it. Even the awesome Luna Peachie needs help coming up with ideas (lol just kidding, I'm not that full of myself).**

**Weird, I know, but I do realize lately I have been pumping out stories faster than most people submit, but I assure you, it isn't because I have no life. I've just had a lot of spare time, lately. My schedule might become hectic soon, as I mentioned in my profile that I am working on a novel. So enjoy the fast updates while you can haha.**

**After the next chapter, I might start doing a few short quickies in between the bigger chapters, but I actually have a plan for this fan-fic, one that I mapped out from the beginning.**

**Tatty-bye, my friends! Review and be merry, I appreciate criticism but I prefer positive lol.**

**Reaver and Barry belong to Lionhead.**


	10. Paint It Rosie

_Reaver's Servants_

Paint It Rosie

"_I see a red door and I want it painted black_

_No colors anymore I want them to turn black_

_I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes_

_I have to turn my head until my darkness goes"_

Rosie couldn't help but turn her head, hearing the man playing the guitar while singing the song softly, as if to her. He was dressed clean for someone who stood against a wall playing a guitar. Reaver had sent Rosie into Bowerstone to pick up a few things for an "important business partner" coming to visit. She held a box under one arm and a bag in her hand.

The man wore a thin scarf loosely around his face, covering his nose and mouth. "Why are you wearing a scarf when it's so hot?" Rosie finally asked, slowly approaching the man. "Is that the question you really want to ask me?" asked the man, placing his guitar down. Rosie shrugged and just stared. "That song sounds familiar, where did you learn it?" she asked.

The man shrugged and leaned against the wall. "I've heard it from here and there. Something about your presence told me to play it." said the man. Rosie didn't know whether or not to be offended. She just shrugged and went about her way. "Would you like me to play it all the way?" the man asked. Rosie stopped and looked at the man. "Any other day, maybe. But right now, I have to get back."

"What hurry do you have? A lonely traveler like me could use a good conversation." The man picked up his guitar and started strumming again. Rosie thought for a moment and sighed. She slowly walked to him and watched him play his guitar.

"_I see a line of cars and they're all painted black_

_With flowers and my love, both never to come back_

_I see people turn their heads and quickly look away_

_Like a newborn baby it just happens every day"_

"Train cars?" asked Rosie, setting her packages down. The man stopped playing and looked up, a little annoyed. "Do you usually interrupt performances?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked. "You know, you look familiar." He said, placing his guitar down again. "Did you used to perform in a circus?"

Rosie nodded. "Yes, I was a fortune teller." The man chuckled hearing that. "Ahh, yes, I remember visiting that circus. You told really bad fortunes." He laughed. Rosie huffed and folded her arms. "I remember seeing a blonde muscular guy walk into the fortune telling tent once and then seeing a sign that said 'Booth Temporarily Closed'." The man laughed.

"I will never live down dating Mr. Finn briefly, I see." Rosie whispered. The man chuckled and attached a strap to his guitar. "In all fairness, I'm no angel either, Miss…"

"Rosie…my name is Rosie." responded Rosie, plainly. "Ahh, the name fits the personality." The man laughed, swinging his guitar onto his back. "Is Rosie short for something? Rose? Rosalina? Rosita? Rosario?" the man watched Rosie frown. "Rosa? Roselyn? Roseanna?" he continued, as Rosie picked up her packages and started walking away. He followed her. "Rosabella? Rosalie? Rosemary? Rosette? Rosemunda? Rosica?"

Rosie turned around and frowned at him. "It's…just Rosie." She answered, trying not to show her annoyance. "I swear, I thought Mr. Hatch was annoying…" she mumbled. "Mr. Hatch? I only know one person with that last name. Is his first name Barry by chance?" the man asked. "Yes…I work with him, why?"

"I play poker with him sometimes, if I'm around." The man looked at Rosie. The way his eyebrows moved, she could tell he was smiling. "Listen, Mister…Whoever-the-Hell-You-Are, I'd love to sit here and talk about people I hate, and trust me, there are plenty, but I have to get this package to my boss before his business associate arrives."

The man followed Rosie as she left the marketplace. Walking among the houses, Rosie heard other feet on the cobblestone road. She sighed and looked behind her. "Why are you following me?" she asked. "I'm not. I was actually going in this direction before I started talking to you. I only stopped to rest against that wall we met at." said the man. Rosie sighed and shifted her packages around. "While I don't believe you, there is little I can do about it, my arms being full and all."

Rosie continued to walk the cobblestone road toward Millfields. "You know…" the man said, despite being a few feet behind Rosie. "…I have traveled pretty far. All I do now is travel."

"How nice for you." said Rosie. The man looked among the houses they passed by and hastened his walking speed, to catch up to Rosie. "Have you a home?" he asked. "I live where I work. I'm a maid. I figured what I was wearing would have made that a dead giveaway." Rosie responded, sarcastically.

The man chuckled softly. "Ahh, passive-aggressive, my favorite type of person. They are less judgmental." Rosie rolled her eyes and tried to walk faster. When she did, he only got faster. She held onto her packages tightly and started running. Rosie was a very fast runner, which soon became obvious to the man.

Looking behind her while sitting against a small stone wall, Rosie caught her breath and stared into the fields. "Finally…"

"_I look inside myself and see my heart is black_

_I see my red door; I must have it painted black_

_Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts_

_It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black"_

The strum of the guitar only added to the unpleasantness of the man's presence. "How did you catch up to me?" she asked. The man chuckled softly. "I was always behind you. I'm a pretty fast runner, myself." He said, snidely. "You're pretty snide for a vagrant." said Rosie. "I didn't think I gave off the impression of being a vagrant…these are brand new clothes." said the man, defending himself, in an insulting manner.

"_No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue_

_I could not foresee this thing happening to you_

_If I look hard enough into the setting sun_

_My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes"_

"Stop singing!" snapped Rosie, turning to him with her eyes glowing. "If you're going to follow me, at least be less annoying!" The man blinked a few times. "Your eyes glow when you're mad?" he asked. Rosie rubbed her eyes and they returned to normal. "What exactly are you?" he asked again. Rosie, looking somewhat offended, just sighed. "I'd rather not give my story to a man whose name I don't know."

"Most people call me Scarf." He responded simply. "To be honest, I like it better than my real name; less tarnished."

"Fine, Scarf…if you must know…I'm a seer. I'm not a very good one, though. My abilities are more of a side-effect than anything." Rosie answered, leaning against the small wall. "Does your boss know this?" asked Scarf. "Yes, he does. Mr. Reaver is strangely accepting of me and my friends. Though, with the sounds I sometimes hear coming from his room, I'm pretty sure he has a loose interpretation of the word 'odd'."

"Your friends?" asked Scarf, leaning next to her. "My friends and I used to work in a circus before…"

"Before…?"

"Before it…shut down, so to speak." said Rosie. "Why was it shut down? I heard the Ringleader came into some money troubles…" asked Scarf.

"If by money trouble, you mean he had a gambling problem, then yes, money trouble was to blame. We came back from a performance in the city one day to find our stuff gone. Everything, from our clothes to our personal affects."

Scarf sighed and let Rosie continue. "To be perfectly honest…we didn't just pick up and leave, that's just the story we told our boss. In reality…despite a moral barometer like Miss Sarah, we took anything of value left and burned down everything."

Scarf nodded, his eyebrows showing soft surprise. "I heard it burned because he was trying to commit some kind of insurance scam. He was found guilty of insurance fraud and for illegal trade. I'm not sure what the Queen did with him, but for you and your friends' sake, I hope he got death."

Rosie rolled her eyes and stood up. "Well, Scarf…thank you." She started walking again but his gloved hand stopped her. "I can carry some of that stuff. It looks heavy." He insisted. Rosie nodded and handed him the box. "This isn't so heavy." Scarf joked, holding it under his arm. "You haven't been carrying it all day." retorted Rosie.

Rosie looked her new friend up and down. "You wear a lot of purple." She said, as they rounded the path near the graveyard. Scarf chuckled. "I've always liked the color purple. I'm not sure why. It just seems like…a neutral color." He answered. "I never saw purple as neutral." said Rosie. "It's a cross between blue and red. Blue is often used to represent purity; red, with corruption. I like to believe that my past has me pegged by both."

"Interesting theory." said Rosie. "Logan, the former king, wore a lot of purple. I wonder if he had the same theory." Scarf shrugged, looking as if he really didn't want to answer. "I doubt it. If he did, he wouldn't have let everything go to Hell like it almost did."

"Almost?" asked Scarf, folding his arms. "I've seen places worse than Industrial in my travels in the circus, though I understand if you find that hard to believe." answered Rosie.

Scarf shrugged. "I doubt Logan knew the extent of his dealings. I can't say much on his behalf, seeing as I never really knew him. No one did, I think." He said, simply. "Don't defend him. He knew exactly what he was doing. He signed people's lives away to fund a war we didn't even know about until his sister came to power." said Rosie, plainly.

"Am I safe to assume you have a personal vendetta against him as well?" asked Scarf, turning his head to Rosie. "Not me, but a few of my friends might. I find holding grudges pointless…well, that's a lie, I guess I am guilty of holding grudges too."

Rosie lowered her head and sighed. "You said earlier you were a seer?"

"I am…not a good one, though. But I had enough of the ability to fib my way through some of those readings I did."

"When did you find out about your abilities?" he asked. Rosie shrugged. "As far as I know, I've always had them."

Walking along the path, Rosie and Scarf found themselves smiling at each other's anecdotes. "…so, you only dated that Mr. Finn guy to make the ringleader's son jealous?" laughed Scarf, who sounded like he hadn't had a good laugh in years. "Well, at first it was like that, but after a while…I actually started to enjoy Mr. Finn's company." Rosie chuckled.

At the top of the path, Rosie pointed to the manor at the far end of the region, which could be seen from where they were standing. "Over there…Lakeview Manor. I work and live there." She said. "By the position of the sun, I assume it's a little after lunch time, so Mr. Reaver is expecting his visitor soon."

"Then we'd better hurry." said Scarf, as he and Rosie started sprinting down the path. Their path, however, was being blocked.

"This road requires a toll, lovey." said a big mercenary, as his cronies laughed behind him. "Look, gentlemen…" said Scarf, before Rosie could say anything. "We're not looking for trouble. We're on an errand for her boss, and we just want to finish in peace…" Scarf took his guitar off his back and offered it to them. "I'm afraid this all I have that's worth anything. Please, take it."

The mercenaries laughed loudly. "By her uniform, I can tell she works for that Reaver bloke. And by the packages, he must be doing something big soon. He'd pay good money to see at least the packages safe." The biggest mercenary took out his sword and slowly approached the two. "Rosie, stand back, please…" said Scarf. "Let's see if I can defeat them without taking out my weapon."

"You have a weapon? Where?" asked Rosie, who started to get worried. Scarf didn't answer. He handed the package back to Rosie and took his guitar. He started singing as he lunged at the mercenaries.

"_I see a red door and I want it painted black_

_No colors anymore I want them to turn black_

_I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes_

_I have to turn my head until my darkness goes"_

His guitar swinging like a sword, Scarf hit each mercenary with precise accuracy. His agility when dodging their weapons and fists amazed Rosie and made her blush. One came after him with an axe, but Scarf jumped out of the way to avoid it, making the man hit one of his comrades instead.

Rosie listened carefully, and heard him humming loudly as he hit the men with his guitar. His guitar was taking a few hits, as he used it to shield himself from bullets. Scarf looked like he was performing a sadistic dance. The biggest mercenary, tired of the foolishness, went after Rosie. Rosie prepared herself.

Scarf jumped onto the mercenary and whispered in his ear, the rest of the song.

"_I wanna see your face, painted black_

_Black as night, black as coal_

_I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky_

_I wanna see it painted, _

_painted, _

_painted, _

_painted black…"_

Scarf twisted the man's neck and jumped off of him, landing in front of Rosie. Rosie clapped with a sarcastic smile. Scarf bowed as she clapped. Rosie tried to get a good look at the rest of his face as he bowed, but couldn't see anything under the scarf.

"Well, Rosie…that was fun, but I'm sure your boss is wondering where you are." said Scarf, picking up the box. "You're guitar is damaged." Rosie pointed to Scarf's guitar, which was far beyond damaged. The only thing keeping the neck of the guitar connected to the rest was the strings. "Well…that certainly won't do…" he said, nonchalantly. "When we get back to the manor, I'll have my friend, Gordon, look at it. He might be able to repair it." Insisted Rosie, as they ran toward Lakeview Manor.

"Wait…before we go in…thank you." said Rosie. "For what?" asked Scarf. "The mercenaries…and helping me with my packages and…" Rosie started to blush. Scarf could tell she wasn't one to voice her emotions often. He took her chin in his thumb and index finger, turned her face, and hastily pulled down his scarf. She still didn't see his face, even as he kissed her cheek. He pulled his scarf back on fast.

"To remember me by…" he said, as they smiled at each other.

Rosie and Scarf ran toward the gates, finding Barry waiting. "It's about damn time!" he shouted, as Rosie approached him, grabbing the box from Scarf. "Master Reaver was expecting that stuff an hour ago! Hurry in before he notices you're late!" said Barry, as Rosie ran by him. Scarf approached slowly, and nodded to Barry as he approached. "You're late, too, you know…" said Barry, his arms folded.

Rosie ran inside and ran up to the dining hall, where Beryl and Willa were preparing everything. "Rosie! Where have you been? Mr. Reaver's guest will be here any minute!" said Beryl, fixing up a flower arrangement. "I know, I know, Mr. Hatch already got on me. Now help me set this stuff up before Mr. Reaver…"

"Before Mr. Reaver what, Rosie? Before I find out you're late, despite how much importance I put on you being back on time?" asked Reaver, as he stepped into the dining area. "Mr. Reaver, I…" Rosie stammered to find an answer but was interrupted by Barry.

"Master Reaver, your guest has arrived." said Barry, bowing in the dining room doorway. "I'll deal with you, later." He muttered angrily as he walked to the foyer. "Servants, come meet our guest for the next few days. Hurry now, chop chop!" Reaver shouted, from the foyer.

Rosie ran down with the rest of the servants and saw Scarf standing in the doorway. Their eyes met and she could tell he was smiling at her.

"My dear servants, I want you to meet one of my oldest friends, and my most prominent business partner." said Reaver, one hand extended to Scarf. Scarf proceeded to take off his scarf, which he handed to Barry. The servants looked on in shock and confusion. Two thin scars adorned his lips, but he was otherwise very handsome. Rosie's eyes widened.

"Everyone, this is Lord Logan: former king of Albion and the Queen's head advisor…as well as her brother." said Reaver, ceremoniously.

Logan nodded as they all bowed. He looked among them and stopped at Rosie…and smiled.

* * *

><p>Reaver sat in the study, watching his house guest follow Rosie all over the house. She seemed to be ignoring him, or at least trying to. Gordon walked in, with a tray and tea. "Mr. Hatch told me to bring you your tea, he's a bit busy at the moment." said Gordon, as he set the tray down. "What could Barry be doing that's so important?" asked Reaver, as his tea was being poured.<p>

Gordon shrugged and looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. "Well, it's about dinner time, so he's either helping the girls set the table or watching Miss Sarah cook. My gold's on the second option." He remarked, handing Reaver his tea cup. "That would be a pretty safe bet. Well, in any case, tell him to clean up his drool and may the gods help him if he's late for dinner again."

Reaver watched Gordon bow and leave. He then took out a pen from his coat pocket and opened his journal, which was on the table with the tea.

"_The servants don't seem to mind that my house guest for the next few days is Logan, former king of Albion. Evidence suggests that they've been through worse in their old profession. He seems to have taken a liking to Rosie, so I assigned her to be his attendant during his stay. Not surprisingly, she was a little less than enthusiastic. Of course, it's hard to tell when Rosie is happy or sad or…plotting your murder. Luckily, the last one hasn't happened yet."_

A small voice under his feet meowed softly. "Ahh, Reavie…I've been wondering where you've been." He said happily, as the cat purred around his feet. "No rubbing against my legs. Cat hair is hard to get off…" Reaver played with his pen a bit.

"_Something tells me Logan being here will shift the routine of things around here. Hopefully not by much, I hate it when routine is disrupted. I think I shall plan a party for him, before he leaves. If not for him, then for me…it's been a while since I've had a party…and I think I know the perfect entertainment…"_

Reaver perked his ears up when he heard a guitar being played. "Ahh, he liked my gift, good." He said, with a smile, as he closed his journal. Reaver got up and walked into the foyer, whistling along with the song.

"Ahh…this will be a most entertaining week…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Haha twist endings haha. But yes, my next few stories will have Logan in them, as he is their house quest. I wonder how he'll handle staying in Lakeview Manor with the servants around. Insanity will be had, that I can promise you.<strong>

**I've wanted to add Logan in for a while, but didn't want to so soon into the story, so I decided to wait a bit. Yes, yes, I made him very passive for a guy who was just kicked off the throne, but it'll be explained why in the next story. **

**One of the next few stories will subtly start going into the back-stories of the servants. Which one, I'm not sure yet.**

**For those who are wondering, the song he is singing is "Paint It, Black" by the Rolling Stones. I think about this song whenever I write about Rosie, and I wanted to include it.**

**As always, I want to thank everyone for their support and reviews. I appreciate them very much, and the story continues because of awesome fans such as yourselves. **

***bows* thank you. Without you guys, I wouldn't be writing at all.**

**Tatty-bye, my friends! I appreciate criticism but prefer positive, so be sure to leave a review hehe!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and (of course) Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	11. Powerful Stuff

_Reaver's Servants_

Powerful Stuff

The crates had arrived just in time. A lot of crates, filled with a special drink Reaver had ordered specifically for the party he was going to be throwing in two days' time. Lord Logan, the Queen's Head Advisor (as well as her brother and former king) was staying for a few days. He was a "silent partner" in Reaver's business enterprises, and had come back to Albion from his travels to check on things. It wasn't that he didn't trust Reaver…it was that he didn't trust Reaver.

Barry opened the crates with a crowbar and Reaver smiled down. Barry picked up a bottle, not recognizing the writing. "What kind of alcohol is this?" he asked, looking over the bottle.

"It's called 'sake'. Apparently it's made from rice, and comes in a variety of flavors and acidities." said Reaver, taking the bottle from Barry. "That means it's quite expensive and if I find you drinking any without my permission, I will do something very unpleasant." He said, glaring at his attendant. "Logan recommended this stuff to me. I am curious…" Reaver rubbed his chin and watched the liquid in the bottle swirl around like a rain puddle. "Go get Gordon to help you take this stuff into the kitchen." commanded Reaver, as the delivery man piled more crates into the foyer. Reaver cocked an eyebrow and stopped the man. "I only ordered ten boxes." He said, snidely.

The delivery boy exhaustively put down a wooden box and showed Reaver the order sheet. "It says seventy, Sir." The boy said a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice.

Reaver looked over the order sheet. "You idiot! Can't your company distinguish a one from a seven!?" he yelled, smacking the boy with the paper.

"Look, Mr. Reaver, I don't take the orders, I just deliver them. It's all already paid for, so you're stuck with them."

Reaver's eye twitched. "Even I don't drink this much. What the hell am I doing to do with all this sake?" yelled Reaver, pointing to the wooden boxes on the floor.

The delivery boy shrugged. "I don't know…donate it to the less fortunate?" he said, snidely.

Barry heard the suggestion and immediately dove to the floor. Reaver took out his gun and cocked it. "Get…out…" The delivery boy backed up and ran from the house. Reaver sighed and shot anyway. "Damn, only got him in the shoulder. I swear the aim on this thing is off." said Reaver, looking over his gun.

Barry stood up and looked at all the wooden boxes. "Miss Sarah is going to have a fit if she sees all this in the kitchen." He said, as he and Reaver looked over the boxes.

Reaver sat on one of the wooden boxes and sighed. "How Miss Sarah feels about what soils the kitchen floor is the least of my worries, Hatch. If that were the case, I would have gotten rid of the cat by now." Barry looked over the open box and took out a bottle. "Oh, go ahead. How else am I going to get rid of it all before the party? No one drinks this much." said Reaver, waving his hand at Barry. Reaver sighed and looked at the boxes. "I really don't want to keep this stuff in the house."

Watching Barry guzzle down the alcohol gave Reaver a horrible idea. Barry swished the alcohol in his mouth. "It's very…dry." He muttered, but continued to drink.

Reaver grabbed the bottle of Barry. "Don't drink all that at once…I have an idea that will get rid of all this stuff before the party…" Reaver tapped his cane against a box and smiled. "It will either be an entertaining way to kill a few hours, or it will kill someone. Both ways, no one is worse for wear and I get my money's worth. Hatch, have all the servants assembled in the dining room after dinner." said Reaver, getting up from his wooden seat.

"What for?" asked Barry.

Reaver smiled deviously. "I know exactly what I'm going to do with all this."

_That Night, After Dinner…_

"It's called 'sake' my dears." said Reaver, jovially. Dinner time came and went and each inhabitant of the house stood around the grand dining table. "It's exotic, it's expensive, and it's the name of the game tonight."

The servants looked at each other and then back to Reaver. Logan sighed and looked at Reaver. "I really, really don't think this is a good idea." He whispered, watching the servants murmur to each other. "Sake isn't like wine. It can get you really drunk, really fast."

Reaver smirked evilly. "Then this will be more fun than I anticipated." He retorted, sashaying his way to the front of the table. He motioned for everyone to sit down, which they did. Reaver straightened his vest and looked among his peons. "As with any drinking contest, we will apply the standard 'Last Man Standing' rules. Last one standing gets a raise; the first one down has to clean up the mess. Bathroom breaks will be appointed when needed, but no one leaves this room until we have a winner. Is that understood?"

Miss Sarah raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Sarah?" Reaver pointed to Miss Sarah.

"When you say 'a raise', do you mean in pay or something else?" Miss Sarah asked, as she put her arm down slowly. The others nodded along with her question.

Reaver just stared at her. "We'll work out the details after everything is said and done…" he answered. Each person got their own bottle and Reaver synched his pocket watch with the grandfather clock. With a devilish smile and the confidence of a drunken man (which he already had, despite being sober at this point) he raised his arm high.

"Ready…"

Each person at the table, despite misconceptions, had a confident look on their face. Reaver brought his arm down.

"CONSUME!"

Hour One: Eight Standing

Each servant poured their sake into their glass and gulped it down. Some cringed, some gasped, while some (Barry and Reaver) took to it well.

"I've never had anything like this." said Beryl, refilling her glass. "My grandparents own a vineyard, and they never produced anything like this." She took another swig and cringed.

"Sake isn't made from grapes, it's made from rice." said Logan, sipping his cordially.

"Fermented rice…" said Reaver, refilling his glass. "Let's play a game to pass the time, shall we?"

"Oh! I got one!" said Barry, reaching his hand up. "How about 'I Never'?" he said, excitedly.

"This is a drinking contest, not a slumber party." said Gordon, pouring his glass again. "How about 'Big Chicken'?"

"How do you play that?" asked Barry.

Willa smiled and nursed another sip from her glass. "Oh, we used to play it at the circus a lot. The person who knows all the phrases begins one phrase at a time. The game follows the same routine as the Twelve Days game. So, the sixth person in the circle would have to repeat the sixth phrase, as well as the previous five. If you mess up a phrase you drink the number of phrases you had to complete, and then start over at the first phrase. This continues until the game is completed, saying all ten without screwing up."

Miss Sarah softly poured herself another glass. "I know all the phrases, so I guess I'll start." She said, with a smile. "Big chicken; cute ducks; brown bears; hairy running hares; fat females sitting, sipping scotch, and smoking cigarettes; sheets slit by Sam the Sheet Slitter; sexy sailors sailing the seven seas; echoing egotists echoing egotistical ecstasies; naughty knocked up nuns navigating near the nunnery; fig pluckers plucking figs, I'm not a fig plucker or a fig pluckers son but I'll pluck figs until the fig plucking's done!" Miss Sarah smiled.

"Big chicken." said Miss Sarah.

"Cute ducks." said Willa.

"Brown bears." said Rosie.

"Hairy running hares." said Beryl.

"Fat females sitting, slipping…oh damn!" shouted Gordon, drinking four cups of sake. Everyone laughed, even Reaver, as he gulped down his drink. The game continued for about an hour until each phrase was said correctly. No one was drunk at this point, but they were starting to get wobbly.

Hour Two

Stacking the cups in a tower, Gordon applauded his own efforts, with Beryl clapping along. Reaver slammed his hands onto the table. "Sake bomb!" he yelled, as the tower of cups full. He laughed loudly, with Gordon mourning the loss of his cup tower.

"So, Miss Sarah…" said Barry, drinking straight from a bottle. "…do you drink much?" he asked. Miss Sarah, still nursing her cup, shook her head.

"Not usually. I'm more of a social drinker…" she said, softly.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Miss Sarah!" said Willa, putting her arm around Miss Sarah. "One time, she drank the ringleader under the table in order to distract him so we could sneak out for the night." She laughed, hugging Miss Sarah tightly.

"It was…one time…" Miss Sarah insisted, taking a big gulp from her cup.

Logan didn't seem very phased by the drinking, but as time passed, everyone could tell he was feeling the effects. "Sake is a very powerful…ugh…drink. I've seen people drink more than this and still fight the next day." He sighed, drinking more from his cup. He let out a small burp and poured himself some more. "Now, you want to talk drinkers, you ask that guy." He said, pointing to Reaver. "I've seen him drink an entire bottle of wine and still shoot five straight targets while covering his eyes."

Reaver, a bit wobbly himself, gave the group a pompous grin. "Now, now…in all fairness, I am incredibly great." He laughed, holding up his glass. He stood up and took a bow, spilling some of his sake. "Oopsie…" he chuckled, sitting back down.

Gordon sighed softly, downing his drink again. "You know, after a while…you don't notice the burning sensation in your chest." He laughed.

Everyone nodded in agreement. Miss Sarah just nursed her drink softly. After she finished, she poured herself some more. "Miss Sarah isn't much of a drinker, but if you put a few in her, she gets competitive." whispered Rosie to Barry, who hadn't taken his eyes off Miss Sarah all evening. "I lost a tooth to her once…solid gold." She added, opening her mouth to show her back teeth. Barry looked over at Rosie and noted that one tooth was missing from the back of her mouth. "It's in the back, so nobody ever noticed…"

"This is powerful stuff…" Miss Sarah giggled, sipping her drink. Everyone nodded in agreement.

Hour Three

"Talley-ho!" shouted Willa, who had started riding on Gordon's back. "Ride on, my champion steed!" she shouted, with an adventurous laugh.

"I want a turn!" shouted Beryl, obviously drunk.

"So…what's your deal?" Rosie asked Logan, as both were still semi-coherent.

"What do…hic…what do you mean?" Logan asked, covering his burps.

"I don't remember you being…so passive during your reign." said Rosie, folding her arms.

Logan smiled a semi-drunk smile. "My time working with my sister gave me a chance to do some meditating on my situation. I did some studying, rediscovered my love of music, and I suddenly started feeling like my old self again. Some compare me to that of a wondering guru." Rosie rolled her eyes. "I understand if you have a grudge against me, over half of Albion does. But I hope you, of all the people that have stopped to talk to me on my travels, will learn to forgive me".

Rosie picked up her drink. "I don't hold grudges…wait, that's probably not true…" she gulped down her drink.

Logan nursed another sip and placed his cup down slowly. "It wasn't easy, though. It took a lot of self-reflection and meditating; eating roots, becoming one with the land, that sort of thing." Logan placed his cup down. "It's good to be back in civilization, every now and then."

"The root eating probably explains how I had to stop you from eating the plate after you had finished dinner last night." said Barry, laughing, trying not to make it obvious that he was listening to their conversation.

"I had just come back from the mountains doing some investigating for my sister. The only food they had there was travel jerky and some kind of cheese that had an unpronounceable name. Miss Sarah could have fried up dirt and baked it into a casserole and I still would have eaten whatever she placed in front of me." Logan chuckled softly.

"Met anyone special on your meanderings around Albion?" asked Reaver, slyly.

Logan blushed. "Nope, can't say I have, sadly. Like I said, some aren't as forgiving as my sister. That includes women." Logan smiled a drunken smile at Rosie. She turned away from him, and gulped down her cup before refilling it. Logan patted Rosie on the head.

They both turned their heads when they heard a thud. "Get up, Gordon!" shouted Willa, tugging on Gordon's hair. "We have to ride up the mountain…the orphans need medicine!" she shouted, grabbing at his face. Gordon was out cold.

"Well, Gordon's out. Looks like he's cleaning up in the morning…" said Rosie, kicking a few of the empty bottles around on the floor.

"There goes my turn…" Reaver lamented, gulping down his glass.

Hour Four: Seven Remaining

Things started to get blurry. "I request a bathroom break…" shouted Willa, motioning to her empty glass.

"You just…urp…had one." laughed Reaver. "I guess it's to be…hic….expected with someone as small as you. You're so short, and I bet you have kidneys to match!" he laughed, slamming his fists on the table. Willa huffed and blushed drunkenly. "The night I gave her that 'prize' I thought I had lost her under the sheets!" he continued to laugh, with Willa trying to shush him.

Rosie placed a hand on her hip and struggled to stand up. "So something DID happen that night…" Rosie hiccupped, while Willa hid her face behind a bottle of sake.

"You…oh man…you said it wasn't what you expected!" shouted Beryl, teetering to one side.

"It wasn't…" laughed Reaver, gulping down more sake. "It was ten times better according to the adorable sounds she kept making!" Reaver laughed loudly and buried his face in his arm, still laughing.

Willa whined softly and buried her blushing face in her hands. Barry chuckled softly and took another swig from the bottle he had. He looked over at Miss Sarah, who was blushing softly. He leaned against his hand and smiled with a blush. "You know…" said a whisper from beside him that sounded like Reaver.

Barry looked up and saw Reaver smiling close to him. "That Miss Sarah is something special isn't she?" Reaver hiccupped. Barry nodded happily, resting his chin on his hand. "I hope Miss Sarah wins, personally. I wouldn't mind giving her a raise." Reaver laughed, going back to his drink. Trying to ignore that statement, Barry finished off his bottle and grabbed another one. He may have been drunk, but he knew how he felt about Miss Sarah. She may not have looked like much to some, but to Barry, she was perfect.

Hour Five: Five Remaining

Miss Sarah poked Willa with her foot. "Well, I should have known she'd be one of the first to fall." She sighed, sipping some more from her cup.

"Yeah, but how did Logan collapse?" asked Rosie.

"Willa fell on him when she was climbing that tower of chairs she made…right before the chair tower fell." said Reaver.

Rosie sighed. "Take one bathroom break and I miss all the good stuff." She lamented.

Beryl walked across the table, on her hands. Her legs her behind her head, and she looked like a pretzel wearing glasses. "I think it's odd that she went out when she did. Her dad could drink like a fish and still be sober enough to do his act." said Beryl, as Barry placed a bowl of sake on her head with a straw. He bent it so Beryl could drink. Reaver clapped and wobbled a bit.

Rosie stood up, with her glass in hand, and shouted. "To Reaver, who gave us these jobs and keeps the booze coming!" she laughed and chugged her drink.

"I've never seen Rosie so…energetic." mumbled Miss Sarah, finishing her newest cup. They heard Beryl yelp as she walked off the end of the table.

Hour Six: Four Remaining

"…and you know what else I hate about Mr. Finn?" shouted Rosie, as she drank some more. "He was never romantic. He would come by my tent, and just expect me to already be naked and waiting for him." Rosie hiccuped a few times. "He used to come up, pretend to be getting his fortune told and then we'd…hic…do naughty things on the table with the crystal ball." Rosie jumped down from the table, as she was standing on it.

Reaver circled his finger around the brim of the glass and nodded, pretending to listen. "He used to…hic…call me by the names of some of his exes. You know, if there hadn't been other Rosie's in his life…" Rosie held her head. "I told him once that my birthday was coming up, and you know what that dummy got me?" Rosie looked among the remaining contestants. "…a half-eaten box of chocolates. His excuse? He got hungry on the way to see me!" Rosie suddenly had tears in her eyes. "Oh, I miss that big idiot sometimes!" she drunkenly laid her head on the table and quickly passed out.

"And then there were three…" said Reaver confidently pouring another glass. The drinking was getting to a point where no one made any sense anymore. Barry opted to call it a draw before something stupid happened, but Reaver dismissed the idea. He laughed loudly as time became meaningless to the three remaining people

Hour Seven: Three Remaining

Reaver gulped down one more glass and started to wobble. "YUMMY!" he shouted, as he gasped. "I hate to disappoint the council, but no one can out drink me!" he laughed. Time kept going, and the stories they told to keep going started to mix together and eventually everything stopped making sense.

Reaver downed another glass. "…and that, my friends, is why I was elected the King of Chicken Town!" laughed Reaver, as the sake finally started to take its toll on him. Reaver made flapping motions with his arms. "Bawk-bawk bagawk!" Reaver then fainted, hitting his head on the table on his way to the floor.

Barry looked down nonchalantly at his passed out boss. "Is…hic…is his head bleeding?" asked Miss Sarah, sitting across from Barry.

Barry shook his head. "Nah, that hat absorbed most of the impact." He said, grabbing another bottle.

"Well, it seems it's just you and…hic…hic…me, Mr. Hatch." slurred Miss Sarah.

"Yep…I must…urp…warn you, I'm a man that can hold his alcohol. As a servant of Reaver…I drink a lot…" Barry slurred, opening the bottle.

Miss Sarah smirked and reached into the wooden box, pulling out a bottle. "You don't know…hic…the meaning of the word 'alcoholic' until you work in the circus. I think I was probably the only person sober enough to go on most nights, and I was an assistant! I saw the lion tamer drink himself into a coma once. Unfortunately it was during his act." she giggled. "His funeral was fun, though…"

Opening her bottle, Miss Sarah took a swig as she and Barry stared each other down. A few minutes of silence passed as each kept taking small swigs from their bottles. "Don't tell Miss Sarah…" Barry slurred. "…but the day I met her…hic…was probably one of the happiest days of my life…" he drank some more. "In any given setting, I'd never be able to tell her how I feel. She's too good for me." He took another swig.

"That Miss Sarah ain't all that great…" slurred Miss Sarah. "I...hic…have…hic…have flaws just like anyone else in Albion. For example, did you know I have a webbed pinky toe?" laughed Miss Sarah, drunkenly.

"That is so cool…" slurred Barry.

Miss Sarah stared at Barry for a moment. "Mr. Hatch, you have two different colored eyes!" she giggled, covering her burps with her hand.

Pounding his fist onto his chest to release a burp, Barry nodded and sighed as he opened his eyes wide. "Yeah…it's called…Uhh…heterochromia! Oh my, that's a big fancy word." Barry took another swig and placed his bottle down hard. "One blue, one brown…" Barry pointed to each eye, almost poking one with his index finger.

"I have that too…see?" Miss Sarah pointed to her left eye. "This one is browner than the other." She whispered, as if wanting to keep it a secret.

Barry squinted and nodded. "I see it…" he said, with drunken amazement.

"You want to know something else?" Miss Sarah asked, her face not moving away from his. "I think that Miss Sarah lady has a crush on that Mr. Hatch guy!" she laughed softly.

Sputtering a bit, Barry slapped his knee in amusement. "That guy? He's not good enough…hic…for her!" Barry laughed, taking another swig.

"She thinks the world of him, though…" Miss Sarah laughed and slumped back in her chair.

Barry sighed and drank the rest of his bottle. Miss Sarah finished off hers. They both reached for another one, only to discover the wooden box empty. "I say we…call…urp…mulligan on this one." said Barry, trying his hardest to stand up.

"No dice; doesn't that mean we…hic…hic…have to do it again?" slurred Miss Sarah, standing up as well.

"No, no, you're thinking of a rain check." Barry corrected. "No, no, wait, a rain check is…oh, nevermind. I think it's best to call it a draw." Barry teetered a bit and looked around, not quite sure where he was, exactly. He pondered his location for a moment and looked at Miss Sarah again, who looked equally lost. "Okay…umm…I think it's best if we just go to bed." Barry rubbed his head and looked around. His sense of direction, along with his equilibrium, was off. "I…I forgot where my room is, though." He said, looking around.

"I think I remember…I'll walk you to your room." said Miss Sarah, shaking as she walked.

"But then…hic…who will walk you to your room?" Barry pondered.

Miss Sarah stopped and thought about that. "True. How about I walk you to your room, and then you walk me to mine?" she giggled drunkenly.

"That is the best idea I've heard all night!" shouted Barry.

Arms around each other's shoulders, they guided each other toward the hallway. "No, you step with me, so it…makes more sense." slurred Miss Sarah.

"I'd like to do other things with you…" he chuckled.

Miss Sarah laughed loudly, almost falling on Barry as they tried to walk in step with each other. "You're such…hic…a pervert. I swear, sometimes you are worse than Mr. Reaver…" Miss Sarah directed them into a wall, but Barry stopped them. "I hate that guy. He's such a jerk. I think Mr. Hatch works for him…and Miss Sarah…"

The two swerved their way around the hallway, trying not to bump into anything. After knocking over some vases, stepping on the cat's tail and meandering into different rooms, the two finally collapsed on the floor of Reaver's office, but not before Barry vomited into a nearby potted plant.

* * *

><p>Reaver woke up the next morning to Reavie licking his face. "Mmm…not now, darling. If you need help leaving just wake up Hatch, he'll show you out." Reaver mumbled, as he woke up.<p>

Opening his eyes a bit more, Reaver waved the cat away and looked around. He slowly got up and balanced himself against the table. Smacking his lips a bit and noting the awful taste in his mouth, Reaver looked over at his servants, who were just waking up. "Anyone coherent enough to hear me, I'm giving everyone the day off until dinner time." Reaver announced, picking his hat off the floor and shaking a few empty bottles out of it. "No one bother me until then."

Reaver crookedly placed his hat on his head and looked around. He couldn't seem to find his cook or his attendant. "…and if anyone finds Miss Sarah, tell her to make me some coffee…" Reaver held his head and made his way to his office, the sounds of his own footsteps giving him a headache. He opted not to open the curtains. He walked to his desk and slumped down in the chair. He fidgeted around for his journal and his pen. Finding both, he rubbed his head again and began writing.

"_Probably not one of my better ideas, but challenging my servants to a drinking contest proved to be more fun than I had hoped for. While most are still unconscious, I'm pretty sure none are dead. I didn't stay up long enough to see who won. To avoid arguments, I'm just going to call foul on this one. Sake is delicious, and what's left will definitely be the hit of the party I'm having in a few days. Though, I doubt I'll be having any…I think I'll just stick with wine."_

Reaver heard moaning and looked into the corner of his office. Resting in each other's arms, Barry and Miss Sarah snored their drunkenness away. With a smile, Reaver went to the cabinet, and took out a photo box. "I know I said I wouldn't use you until the party, but this is just too good to pass up." He said, as he held the photo box up to his eye.

_**POOF!**_

With one press of a button, a blinding flash lit up the room. "These new photomajigs were a good investment." He said, as he turned to box on its side.

_**CLICK, CLICK, ZERRRK **_was the sound the photo box made as it distributed a small sepia toned color picture. "Instant pictures…" he laughed. Reaver decided to let the two sleep it off, as sleep was sounding really good to him right now. Putting the camera away, Reaver flicked the picture onto Barry, who groggily pulled Miss Sarah closer to him. "No charge." Reaver said snidely as he left the room.

Walking down the hallway, he could hear his servants waking up and shuffling off to their rooms. Making a mental note to have Gordon, who lost the contest, do all the cleaning later, Reaver felt his way to his along the walls of the hallway. As Reaver pondered whether or not this was even the right way to his room, he wondered if his house guest was feeling any better. Deciding he didn't really care at the moment, Reaver continued his shuffle to his room.

"…too bad, I was really looking forward to giving someone that raise…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, you guys!<strong>

**Public drunkenness at its best, am I right? The original ending had Barry and Miss Sarah waking up next to each other in Reaver's bed (You can guess the rest) but I decided against it. I think it's a little too early in the story for that kind of character development. I don't want to spoil anything, but hehehe, yeah.**

**The title of this chapter comes from a song called "Powerful Stuff" by Sean Hayes. I listened to that song while writing this. Ehehehehe!**

**Heterochromia is an actual condition in which your eyes are different colors. Not many people notice it, but Barry Hatch does have it. It can mostly be seen in artwork and if you look closely enough during cutscenes. It adds to his character, if you ask me.**

**Okie, the next chapter might be more of a quickie, as I don't really feel like overwhelming myself trying to get an entire story out of one little bitty idea. I will tell you guys this: it involves the photo box mentioned above.**

**Yes…cameras…another liberty I took with this story. I figure by the time of Fable III, they'd have almost instant pictures like a Polaroid camera. If you don't like it…well, sorry.**

**As always, I want to thank you all for your reviews, you guys are awesome!**

**Tatty-bye, for now! I appreciate criticism but prefer positive!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	12. Reaver's Magic Photo-Box

_Reaver's Servants_

Reaver's Magic Photo-Box

The summer sun beamed down on the servants as they watched their boss place a machine on a tripod. They recognized the machine as a "Photo-Box", as they used to see one a lot at the circus. Logan, their house guest, stood among them, watching Reaver play around with it.

"Now, who can tell me what this is?" asked Reaver, as if addressing small children.

Rosie held up her hand. Reaver pointed to her. "It's a photo-box. We used to have a guy at the circus take pictures as souvenirs." She answered.

Reaver walked over to her and patted her on the head. "Very good. This is indeed a photo-box. Top of the line, in fact! Right off the factory floors. Reaver Industries has sunk a lot of money into these things, and I want to test it out personally. The main difference between this photo-box and the others is that this one makes the pictures instantly!" he shouted jovially.

"You mean like the pictures you took of us drunk the other night?" asked Barry, raising his hand.

"Yes, but blackmailing you all into behaving during tomorrow night's party is just one perk to having instant photographs." laughed Reaver, as his servants looked at each other, worriedly.

"It's like magic!" said Willa, happily. Reaver rolled his eyes.

Reaver waved Logan over for him to inspect the machine. "I'll be unveiling it at tomorrow's party, so hopefully this prototype will land me a few more investors. I have the blueprints in my office if you want to look over them later." He whispered, as he loaded a film roll into the machine. "I'm taking it to your sister later on this evening. If the investors see her backing this project, I predict the funding for these will flow like a waterfall." He added, with a snicker. Logan rolled his eyes and just nodded.

"Now, everyone stand by the door and smile." He shouted, as the servants scrambled to the door. Reaver then started instructing them where to stand. "Willa, stand in front. Gordon, stand to the left…no, my left. Miss Sarah, switch places with Rosie. Hatch, stand behind Willa. Beryl, fix your glasses and stand next to Gordon." Reaver kept instructing the servants to switch places. Getting confused and tripping over one another, they finally fell over just as Reaver took the first picture. "Please don't make me waste these." He said, as the servants tried to untangle themselves from each other.

"Get off my hair!" shouted Rosie.

"Who's on my arm!" cried Willa.

"Whoever is grabbing my ass, I appreciate the thought, but please stop." said Gordon.

"Oh, sorry, Gordon…" said Barry, trying to pull his hand from the servant knot.

As the servant pulled themselves free, Reaver stood over them, holding the photo-box. "If you all are done goofing around, I am trying to take a picture, here. I only have a few shots left, so please stand still." He warned, as the servants stood up.

"Maybe a different background would help." muttered Logan.

Reaver smiled. "That's a wonderful idea! Everyone, go stand on the dock!" he shouted.

Everyone tried to stand beside each other on the dock, but found it hard. "Stop shoving! Stand still!" Reaver shouted, as he readied the machine. He took the picture just as everyone fell into the lake. He examined the picture as it emerged.

"Well, you did say you wanted some action shots…" said Logan, taking the picture from Reaver.

Sighing angrily, Reaver snatched the picture back and snarled as his servants emerged from the lake. "Clear as crystal; a picture of my servants falling into water. If they were naked, I'd be happier."

Deciding that the dock was a bad idea (and after letting them dry off and change), Reaver led his servants to the waterfall. Reaver didn't realize that Reavie had gotten out through an open window and followed them. "A lovely area. A picture like this will definitely land us some investors." assured Reaver, as his servants lined up. "Smile pretty, everyone!" he shouted, as a small bird flew past the group. Reavie, with an evil glow, chased the bird, causing everyone to panic and laugh. Then the bird came at Reaver and landed on the photo-box…

Reaver got a good picture of Reavie attacking the photo-box and a few shots of the trees as he fell over. Reavie mewed happily as Reaver grabbed her by the nape of her neck. He sat up and stared angrily at her. She licked his nose. Logan picked up the photo-box and took a picture of that.

With Logan holding the cat, Reaver decided to go with somewhere more conventional (and less accident producing). "I imagine my sister would get a kick out of this." He whispered to the cat.

"If I can't get the Queen's backing for these things, then I can just forget about getting any investors at the party." said Reaver, having overheard Logan.

"Maybe we should take a break, Mr. Reaver." chirped Miss Sarah, holding up a picnic basket. "I made us a picnic lunch while we were inside drying off."

Reaver smiled. "Alright, a break would be great." He said, as everyone set up the picnic on the hill overlooking the lake. Logan smirked and put the cat down on the blanket. He then picked up the photo-box and took a few pictures of his own.

After lunch, Reaver directed them to the fields aligning the path to Bowerstone. "Stand in that field." He commanded. The servants jumped the wall and stood next to a scarecrow. "Finally, this could not fail in any possible way!" Reaver shouted with a smile. "Alright, scoot together now." He said, waving his hand about. Beryl's elbow accidently hit the scarecrow, causing it to fall over onto Willa, who screamed as if it were attacking her. Reaver got two pictures of everyone running away from Willa, the scarecrow on top of her.

Reaver and his servants drudged back to the manor. "Well, I have two shots left, and I am not wasting any more film on this pointless endeavor." He sighed, tripod slung over his shoulder.

Reaching the manor, Logan stopped them. "Wait…let me try." He said, handing Reavie to Reaver.

Logan set up the tripod and photo-box, and told Reaver to stand next to his servants. "Three…two…" then a flash of light. The image emerged a bit later. Logan handed the picture to Reaver, who smiled and nodded.

_Later that evening, at the Castle_

Queen Robin looked over the photos as Logan and Reaver sat across from her in the study. The blueprints were on the table, next to a tray of cookies and tea.

Reaver didn't have a good feeling about the first couple of shots, but was surprised to see the Queen giggling happily. "These are magnificent!" she shouted, happily. She giggled happily at the picture of the servant pile, and of the servants falling into the lake. The unintended close-up of Reavie attacking the camera seemed to be her favorite so far.

"I've never seen pictures so clear! And your subjects take wonderful photos." Queen Robin giggled and blushed at the pictures of the picnic lunch. "So natural!" she giggled, showing Reaver the photos Logan took.

One was of Beryl and Willa fighting over the last pudding cup.

Another was of Gordon sharing his sandwich with Reavie.

The next picture had Rosie glaring at the camera while trying to eat her sandwich.

After that, a picture of Barry and Miss Sarah sitting close to each other, blushing while sipping their fizzy pops.

The Queen laughed loudly at the pictures of the servants running from Willa when the scarecrow fell on her and finally; the Queen smiled at the last picture (which Reaver didn't want to admit was his favorite): Reaver and his servants, standing proudly in front of Lakeview Manor.

Queen Robin smiled wide. "These are magnificent. The detail is astounding and the technology is sound. But what I like the most is the way it brings people together, it's almost…magical!"

Reaver and Logan looked at each other and then back to the Queen, with a smile as if to suggest that is what they were going for (when in reality, it was more by accident). "For once, I am actually impressed with what Reaver Industries is coming up with, instead of horrified and sickened to my very core." The Queen said, happily. Reaver took compliments were he could with Queen Robin. He wasn't her most favorite person in the world. "You have my backing, whole-heartedly. I want to see these things being sold to the public by this time next year."

To celebrate, Logan and Reaver had a maid take a picture of them with the Queen, which Queen Robin kept, happily.

* * *

><p>Reaver smiled happily and toasted himself in his office, later that night. All the servants had gone to bed, as did Logan, his house guest. Reavie was napping happily in her basket in the corner. Reaver put down his glass of wine and looked at the photo of himself with the servants. He smiled and filled the ink pen. Opening his journal, he began to write.<p>

"_My photo-box was a complete success! The Queen is backing the project fully and with that kind of backing, the investors will practically be throwing money at us. The invitations have been sent, every RSVP has been returned, so I look forward to a grand party tomorrow night. I hope my servants are ready. I realized just earlier that they have never had the honor of serving at one of my parties. Barry, understandably, is a bit nervous. I keep promising him it's not one of those parties, but I suspect he'll be hiding in the kitchen the entire time, just to be safe…or to gawk at Miss Sarah. He'll kill two birds with one stone either way. I already have tomorrow night's entertainment planned out…I hope my servants can handle it."_

Reaver closed his journal and walked over to Reavie, who woke up as he approached. He picked her up and left the office. "Because of your adorable little misadventures today, you've earned the privilege of sleeping in my bed with me tonight." He said, happily, as he and the cat walked down the hall.

"Picture perfect day if I do say so myself…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Pictures, pictures, pictures!<strong>

**I wish I could draw, because I'd draw all these photos for you guys to see, but sadly I am but a humble writer (sad).**

**Next installment won't go straight to the party (sorry), but I have something pretty cool planned, so do not fret, my doves. I think you guys will enjoy it.**

**Yes, in my game, the hero's name is Robin. I don't know why, but it just seemed to fit the character. It's a unisex name, so it fits pretty well, in my opinion. And it keeps the tradition of birds this family seems to have. Did you know Logan is a unisex name? I didn't…weird.**

**Well, as always, I appreciate the reviews and I want to thank you all again for reading. Keep the reviews coming and I'll keep the insanity going!**

**Tatty-bye, my doves!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	13. Tea Time

_Reaver's Servants_

Tea Time

"Nothing interesting ever happens around here." said Reaver, sipping his tea. His house guest, Logan, looked across the table at him as he put two sugars in his tea. They sat outside in the garden to enjoy the summer weather before the party to take place that evening. Logan nibbled on a cookie and looked over at the servants. They were preparing the garden with decorations. Reaver sipped his tea again. "This evening's party will be a nice distraction, as well. I swear it gets dreadfully boring around here, especially in the summertime."

Logan bit into his cookie as he watched Gordon scale a trellis to reach an out of the way branch. Logan continued to watch as Gordon swung from each beam like climbing money bars. Gordon reached onto his belt and took the hedge clippers off. When realizing he couldn't reach it this way, Gordon began to swing himself, and once he got the proper momentum, he swung up to the top off the trellis and snipped the small branch. Gordon, who was never against showing off, front flipped off the trellis and landed perfectly on his feet. His arms in the air as he landed, the other servants clapped softly and went back to their work.

"I sometimes wonder how I keep from going insane from the boredom." said Reaver, picking up a cookie with his fingertips.

Logan sipped his tea again and looked over at Willa, who was dusting a statue of Reaver. "You sure have a lot of statues of yourself." said Logan, softly.

Reaver nodded proudly. "Oh yes, I commissioned them myself. Lovely works…"

Logan looked over again and saw Willa carrying a large flower trough. Willa placed it down near Barry, who pointed to where he thought it should be. Willa nodded and picked it up again, placing it down. Barry then pointed to a small cement statue of a cherub. It looked heavy, despite its small size. Barry mumbled something and pointed to the gate of the garden.

Willa picked up the statue (as if picking up a toy) and walked it over to the garden gate. Logan watched in amazement. He couldn't fathom how a person of her size could lift something so heavy. He heard Barry mumble in disagreement, and had Willa pick it back up. He pointed to another area and ducked each time Willa swung the statue around. Willa finally placed the statue on the other size of the fountain. Barry nodded in agreement and went to pick up his clipboard.

"You know, Logan, I invited your sister to my party, but I never received an RSVP back from her." said Reaver, pouring himself some more tea.

Logan looked back at Reaver. "Oh, Robin was never much of a party person, I guess. Whenever we had galas at the castle, even as a child, she'd hide behind something or stay close to me until the party was over." He said, simply.

Reaver chuckled a bit. "Ahh, yes, I remember when your parents would invite me to those parties, they were quite a laugh. Your parents were always a bit stuffy, even after everything me and your mother, the great departed Queen Sparrow, went through."

Nibbling on a cookie while Reaver talked about nothing of any real importance, Logan glanced over at Beryl, who was arranging flowers in a cement flower pot. She was also setting up a tiki lamp with her left foot. Logan cocked an eyebrow and tried to drink his tea. He almost choked when he saw her bend backwards to pick up a paper lamp that had fallen from the trellis above her. When she was done setting up the tiki lamp, she picked up the lamp with her toes and stretched up her leg to hand the lamp to Gordon, who was back on top of the trellis.

"One of your maids is made of rubber." said Logan.

"Hmm? Oh, you must be referring to Beryl. No, not rubber, though she probably has bubble gum for brains." laughed Reaver.

Rosie walked over to the table with a tray. "Miss Sarah wanted me to bring these out." She said, simply as she placed the tray down. The tray contained more cookies.

"Ahh, wonderful. I do love Miss Sarah's cookies. She always makes extra." Reaver pointed out to Logan, as Rosie walked away.

After tea, the two men walked the grounds of Lakeview Manor, near the lake. "Can you believe I almost gave all of this up?" said Reaver, still nibbling on a cookie. "No one can appreciate it like I can." He added with a self-satisfying laugh. Logan rolled his eyes and looked at the dock.

Barry was instructing Rosie on how to string up the lights along the dock. Logan just watched. Rosie was getting aggravated by Barry, who was telling her how to tie a knot. He watched her eyes glow and then saw one of the lamps fly up and hit Barry in the face. Logan watched as Rosie's eyes started getting brighter and the strings started to wrap around Barry, constricting him. It was then Miss Sarah ran up and shook Rosie back to consciousness, and helped Barry out of the strings. Rosie bowed and apologized profusely to Barry, as Miss Sarah helped him inside.

"It's so quiet here, sometimes…it's maddening!" said Reaver, as they walked along the banks of Bower Lake away from the manor. The servants seemed to be running around Millfields for any reason Reaver needed at this point in the day. "But I guess one does pay a steep price for privacy and normality." He continued.

"Mr. Reaver? May I borrow your hat for a moment?" asked Miss Sarah, running up to the two men.

"Why of course, Miss Sarah. Be careful with it though." He said, taking the hat off of his head. She bowed and ran off to a group of noble children, who seemed to delight in following the servants around lately.

Logan watched Miss Sarah tap the hat three times and reach in, pulling out a tray of cookies and a few bottles of fizzy pop. The children shouted happily and ran off with their treats. The hat started to shake; a giant tentacle reached out and grabbed Miss Sarah. She shouted and kicked loudly as it lifted her in the air. Barry pointed and yelled, grabbing a nearby fallen tree branch. He ran towards the hat and started beating the tentacle with a stick. The other servants joined in, with Willa jumping on top of it and wrestling it to the ground. Rosie ran up to Logan, grabbed the guitar off his back and ran back to the fray. Logan could hear the sounds of a guitar being hit against something heavy and sighed softly.

The tentacle let go off Miss Sarah and retreated back into the hat. Miss Sarah tapped the hat three times and the hat stopped shaking. Willa brought Reaver his hat back. "Oh, there's dirt on it…" he said, patting the silk hat softly. Rosie handed Logan his guitar back. The strings were cut and the body was cracked. "Rosie, you are a very violent guitar player…" Reaver remarked.

Logan and Reaver eventually made their way back to Lakeview Manor. The party was set to begin in a few hours. "So…your servants…"

Reaver stopped Logan before he could continue. "Logan, I know what you're going to say, and I for one am offended!" he said. Logan cocked an eyebrow. "I want you to know I already branded them, so they are not for sale! Besides, they are servants, not slaves. Selling them would land me in hot water with your sister, and unless it's a bathtub filled with bubbles with champagne chilled on the side, I don't want that." He chuckled deviously.

The two men walked up the stairs and toward the dining hall, where everything was already ready.

"Besides, they're dull as dirt. It's not like they add to the excitement around here…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! I quickie before the party haha.<strong>

**I should probably explain myself. I deleted the original thirteenth chapter because, overall, I wasn't satisfied with it. My belief is that if the author isn't satisfied with their own work, then the readers are definitely not going to be satisfied. So, I took it down and decided to put up this quickie instead, which I am much happier with, despite how short it is.**

**Yes, Reaver does notice the things that go on around his house, but it's whether or not he's gotten used to it or just chooses not to care is the question. Lakeview Manor at this point is probably a very interesting place to live.**

**Y'all ready for the big party? I hope so! I'm doing a lot of editing on the next chapter, so I can make it extra special for you guys. It might take a while, but I know you guys will like it.**

**As always, please review and be merry (I appreciate all reviews)**

**Tatty-bye my lovelies!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	14. A Picture's Worth

_Reaver's Servants_

A Picture's Worth

Lakeview Manor illuminated Millfields with a rainbow of lights. Reaver's big party was in full swing, with people still showing up. Music could be heard almost to the Bowerstone path and had anyone who wasn't invited tapping their feet. But tonight, Reaver has no idea that the night celebrating him…really wouldn't be about him at all…

The swishing sound of wine being poured followed by loud laughter filled the recently renovated ballroom. Reaver's big party was more relaxed than Reaver would have liked. Reaver and Logan (Lakeview Manor's house guest) jovially traded anecdotes with the guests. Logan had told his share, but it seems Reaver had better ones. "…and then I said 'Why not put your money where your mouth is and let the gold do the talking.' And that is how I got Hatch to stuff ten sea urchins down his pants." laughed Reaver, slapping his knee a few times.

Logan let out a small chuckle as Barry continued to pour wine for the guests who laughed at his expense. Barry hated it when Reaver told this story. Barry finished pouring the wine and left for the dining area as the men laughed. Barry, with an exhausted sigh, made his way out of the dining room and toward the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was putting the finishing touches on dinner. He remembered that Reaver told the servants they could join the party once dinner was over. Barry knew that only meant one thing: that Reaver had made his decision of who will share his bed tonight and Barry would only get sleep if he slept in the study.

Miss Sarah handed each servants a tray with plates on it, and the servants found themselves serving dinner already. Reaver stood up as the dishes were uncovered and went to a nearby end table, which contained an item with a white blanket over it. "Now, I am sure you are all wondering what is under this sheet. I saw a few of you wander over here and try and peek under, only to be stopped by a shot from my gun. Well, I want you all to know that under this sheet, is the newest innovation from Reaver Industries. The Queen has seen it and was very impressed, so if she finds it impressing, I can only imagine what you all will think." Reaver chuckled deviously as he unveiled the object. "I present to you, the new and improved Photo-box!" he shouted.

His guests stared blankly at the photo-box. Not one to lose a crowd, Reaver smiled and waved his hand about it. "And what is so special about a photo-box, you might be asking. Well, this one not only takes better quality photographs, but it also develops them instantly!" he shouted, happily. "I know you are all a bit skeptical, but I assure you, it works." Reaver picked up the photo-box and took a quick picture of Barry, who was pouring wine into a lady's glass. The flash blinded him temporarily and he staggered about. Reaver counted down on his hand and then a picture emerged. He passed it around and everyone nodded in agreement.

Dinner went swimmingly and as everyone piled into the ballroom, the servants cleared the table. Barry followed Reaver to the doorway of the ballroom. "Good work tonight, everyone. Miss Sarah, I give an extra thanks to you; your ravioli specialty was a hit and I'm sure is the reason why some of these investments are so generous." said Reaver, waving some pieces of paper. "Hatch, go file these away in my office. I'll be at the factory office tomorrow, and I will need to take a trip to the bank as well." Barry took the papers and nodded.

"Right away, Master Reaver." Barry bowed and left the dining room.

"Alright, my doves, credit were it is due. Good work, nice hustle, yada yada and so forth." Reaver waved his hand in the air as Barry walked back into the dining room. Reaver handed the photo-box to Barry as he walked up to him. "Take this to my office. If you want play with it, that's fine, but don't waste all the pictures on Miss Sarah. I expect to see it on my desk, in one piece, when the party is over, is that understood, Hatch?" warned Reaver. Barry nodded and carefully took the photo-box from Reaver.

The servants waved as Reaver and Logan walked into the ballroom. The servants turned around and smiled devilishly at Barry. He had a nervous look on his face. "Alright everyone, let's finish cleaning so we can have more free-time." he said, backing up slowly.

"What's the rush, Mr. Hatch?" said Beryl, as she happily took the photo-box from him.

"Yeah, Mr. Reaver said it was okay, so let's have a little fun with the photo-box!" shouted Willa, running up to Beryl.

"Be careful with it! It's not a toy!" shouted Barry. "This won't end well…" Barry muttered to himself, as he chased the two girls.

Barry's feeling of calm dread came back. Beryl took a picture of Willa next to Barry. "My turn!" shouted Willa, as she grabbed the photo-box from Beryl. Willa took a picture of Beryl doing a one-handed handstand on a nearby chair. The two girls laughed happily and ran about with the photo-box.

Beryl took a picture of Miss Sarah putting dishes away. The flash nearly blinded her and almost made her drop a plate. Willa grabbed the photo-box and ran toward the study, where Gordon was straightening up. He turned around and was greeted by a flash of light, which made him back into a bookshelf, causing a few books to fall on him. Beryl took the box back and they ran to find Rosie, who was in Reaver's room, straightening the linens.

_**POOF!**_

Rosie was sent aback by the blinding flash and she fell over Reaver's bed post. She growled softly as she regained her composure. Rosie chased the two out of Reaver's room and down the hallway, and grabbed the photo-box. "This isn't a toy!" she shouted, as she took the box away.

Willa and Beryl grabbed it and all three of them started tugging on it. "Mr. Reaver said we could use it!" shouted Willa.

"I'm sure he didn't mean annoy everyone with it!" shouted Rosie, tugging it her way.

"We're not done, give it back!" shouted Beryl.

Barry caught up with Willa and Beryl and saw the tug-o-war. "Be careful!" he shouted. It was too late. Willa lost her grip and suddenly let go of the photo-box. The other two were sent aback and they each watched the photo-box fly into the air. "Catch it!" Barry shouted. The three girls dove for it, but it landed with a crash on the floor, breaking into a few pieces.

_**SMASH!**_

A feeling of doom loomed over the three girls as they slowly stood up and faced Barry, who was fuming. "I told you it was not a toy!" he yelled, towering over the three girls. Barry ran to the broken device and picked up the pieces. "Alright, I can fix this. The blueprints for it are in Master Reaver's office. Rosie, go to my room and look in the cabinet. There should be some tools there. You're going to help me repair it." Rosie nodded and ran towards Barry's room.

Barry looked at the other two. "Since this is your fault, you two are going to have to stall Master Reaver should he come back out looking for his device before I'm done fixing it!" he shouted, as Rosie ran back up to him with a small box. "Good. Rosie and I will be in the office. Knock three times if he is coming." said Barry, as he and Rosie disappeared into the office. Watching the office door close, Willa and Beryl looked at each other in fear.

"Great…we get the hardest job of all. What are we going to do if he comes back for it?" asked Willa.

"We stall him, like Mr. Hatch said to." answered Beryl.

"Well, duh, genius. I meant, how?" remarked Willa.

"We'll just tell him one of the other servants has the device." said Beryl.

"…and what happens when he goes off the find said servant?" asked Willa, her arms folded.

"We'll figure that out when it comes down to it." Beryl said, with a confident smile.

Willa and Beryl put their ears to the office door, trying to hear what was going on. All they heard were various clanks and taps, along with some hammering sounds and a few of Barry shouting after pricking his finger on something sharp. "Do you think he's actually fixing it?" asked Willa.

"Well, what else would Mr. Hatch and Rosie be doing in there?" retorted Beryl.

Willa shrugged. "Making out?" she said with a laugh.

Beryl giggled at the thought. "Please, Rosie hates Mr. Hatch. Besides, we both know Mr. Hatch only has eyes for Miss Sarah." She laughed.

"Mr. Hatch and Rosie; that actually sounds horrifying." laughed Willa. "Well, Rosie has dated her own list of losers. Remember her short affair with the Ringleader's son, Lance the Sword Swallower? He wasn't much of a looker either. But compared to Mr. Hatch, he was Prince Charming!" laughed Willa.

"She should have stayed with that Mr. Finn guy in my opinion." said Beryl. Willa agreed with a nod.

Willa and Beryl stood straight up when they thought they heard the ballroom doors open. They were only semi-relieved to see it was Logan. He immediately started walking towards them. "Hello girls. Have you two seen Rosie tonight?" he asked, calmly.

"Umm…no, not since we cleared the table." lied Willa.

"But I know where she isn't: inside this office with Mr. Hatch." said Beryl, in a panic. Willa glared at Beryl, who only shrugged.

"Uh-huh…well, if you do see her, tell her I want to talk to her and I'll be in the study." Logan walked off, and as soon as he was gone from their sight, the girls sighed relieved.

"Just let me do the talking next time." said Willa.

The office door opened and Barry peeked his head out. "Was that Master Reaver?" he asked.

"No, it was only Lord Logan looking for Rosie." said Beryl, as she readjusted her glasses.

Rosie then poked her head out. "Lord Logan was looking for me?" she asked. Barry shoved her head back into the room and shortly joined her.

Beryl put her ear to the door and only heard faint clinking sounds. "Well?" asked Willa. "Well, it sounds like it's going good in there. Mr. Hatch is more talented than he gives himself credit for." replied Beryl. Willa looked up and saw a shadow come down the hallway.

Luckily, it was Miss Sarah. They both smiled wide as she approached. "What are you two doing in front of Mr. Reaver's office?" she asked.

"Nothing of any real importance, Miss Sarah. We're just…standing here." said Willa. "Yep, just standing here, not at all hiding anything."

Miss Sarah stared curiously at them. "Well, in any case, if you see Mr. Hatch, tell him to come by the kitchen before bedtime. I have some leftovers for him if he wants them. Otherwise, I'll have to give it to the cat." said Miss Sarah, as she left the two. Barry poked his head out the door again.

"Was that Miss Sarah?" he asked.

Rosie grabbed Barry by his hair and pulled him back into the office. "Focus!" she snapped, as she closed the door.

A few minutes had gone by, and then Barry poked his head out again. "Is it finished?" asked Beryl, hastily.

"Not quite. I'm going to need a new lens, this one is cracked." He said, holding the cracked glass. Beryl took it and examined it. "This looks like the same glass my glasses lenses are made from. I can give you one from my spare pair." said Beryl.

"Well, hurry! It sounds like the party is starting to die down." said Barry, as Beryl ran off to her room.

Willa became nervous standing there by herself. Every sound became something big to her. The shadows crept around the hallway and made Willa shiver. All she could think about was the horrible things Reaver would do to them if he found out she and Beryl broke his photo-box. "Maybe he'll string us up by our toes in the basement…" she whined, trying not to be scared. "…or feed us to rabid chickens…" Willa's eyes became watery as her thoughts got wilder. "Or…or maybe he'll make us clean the crawl space underneath the house…"

"_Meow?"_

Willa jumped and yelped at the surprise visit from the cat. Reavie stood in front of Willa and moved her tail about. "Oh, Reavie…you scared me…" laughed Willa. She bent down and patted the little kitty cat on her head. "For a second there, I thought you were Mr. Reaver…" she laughed, picking up the cat. "I bet you feel left out of all the fun, huh? Well, trust me, its best you stay dumb to this." Willa set Reavie down and watched her scamper away. "I hope Beryl gets back soon…"

Reaching into her cabinet, Beryl happily grabbed her spare glasses and ran back toward the other hallway. She was passing by the ballroom when she heard the doors fly open. Reaver, with his cane leading the way, walked up to Beryl, who hid her spare glasses behind her back. "Oh, good, Beryl, I need you to do something for me." He said, a little drunk. Beryl became nervous. "I need you to help me settle a bet." He said, pulling her into the ballroom. Reaver shoved her into the middle of the dance floor. "Show them your amazing abilities." He commanded, with a clap of his hands.

Beryl shook nervously at all the people staring at her, but nodded softly and stood straight, tucking her spare glasses into her apron pocket. "Show them the backwards thing." Reaver shouted, as he downed some more wine. Beryl bent all the way backwards and poked her head in between her knees. Everyone clapped. "Now, walk on your hands." shouted Reaver, again. Beryl bent down, her legs tucked behind her head, and walked on her palms. She did every trick Reaver commanded of her and ended with a split. Everyone clapped (except the man handing Reaver a small bag of gold). Beryl got up and bowed and started running out of the ballroom. "I wonder where she's going off to in such a hurry." Reaver asked himself.

Beryl quickly came back to the office and handed her spare glasses to Barry. He nodded his thank you and popped his head back into the office. Willa looked panicked and glared at Beryl. "I was stopped by Mr. Reaver. He made me do tricks for his guests." said Beryl, simply.

Almost an hour passed by, and the sounds of the party started to die down. Beryl still had her ear to the doorway, trying to hear everything. "From the sounds of it, it sounds like he's about done." She whispered, as she tried to listen more close to the tinkering.

"Almost done with what?" asked a voice that sent a chill down their spines. Turning around slowly, Will and Beryl saw Reaver, with two masked women on each arm. "Why are you two standing in front of my office? I figured you'd be doing something a little more productive." He said, leaning down toward Willa. "You two are hiding something from me." He cooed, with a devious smile.

"Oh, no, nothing at all, Mr. Reaver." said Beryl, nervously.

Reaver, who looked like he had a bit to drink that night, smiled and got closer to Beryl. "You know someone as flexible as you, Beryl, should be able to bend the truth better." He laughed. "Ahh, but I do like surprises. So, the longer it takes me to find out, the more enjoyable your punishment will be…for me, anyway." He laughed again, escorting the two ladies to his bedroom.

Not long afterward, Barry emerged from the office with Rosie in tow. "It's done. It will be on the desk in the morning when Master Reaver comes for it. Hopefully, he'll never find out." Berry sighed, somewhat relieved as the four left the hallway. "Now, let this be a lesson to you all. Whenever Reaver gives you permission to do something, it's probably a set-up." Barry warned as he left the three alone in the dining room.

"Don't surprise me like that again." growled Rosie, as she left the dining room as well.

Willa and Beryl looked at each other, and decided to just go to bed.

* * *

><p>Reaver, having escaped the clutches of his two bed companions, made his way to his office and sat down. He was wearing his sleeping trousers and under shirt, both stained with lipstick marks. He chuckled to himself and looked at the corner of his desk, as the photo-box. He picked it up and looked it over. "Hatch did a good job repairing it." He laughed, setting it down again. "I wonder how stupid my servants think I am." He asked himself, as he took out his journal.<p>

"_I wish I had more to say tonight, but actions speak louder than words! Oh my, the presentation was a complete success and so was the dinner. The servants were on their toes all night, and I think they earned a good night's sleep, free of my waking them up and making them run around Millfields until sunrise for breaking my expensive prototype and not telling me. I must say, though, I am a bit sad tonight, as my house guest, Lord Logan, has informed me that he received an assignment from his sister and will be leaving in a few short weeks. Too bad, I was getting used to having him around."_

Reaver's arm accidently hit the photo-box as he went to put his pen away.

_**SMASH!**_

It landed on the office floor with a loud smash. Reaver sighed at the many pieces that used to be the photo-box. He shrugged, and walked over to his cabinet. He opened it, revealing four more prototypes. He took one out and placed it on his desk. If there was anything being around the servants had taught Reaver…

"Always have a spare…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my dears!<strong>

**It's been a while, and I apologize profusely for my absence. A lot of odd things happened in the course of the last…two or so weeks, I think that kept me from finishing this when I hoped to. It's a bit short, and not as illustrious as I had wanted it, but I realized my idea for the party setting didn't materialize the way I hoped. I went through many ideas, but just kept stopping mid-paragraph with each one, but in the end, I settled on this one. All in all, I'm somewhat satisfied with how this came out.**

**The next story will be the last one with Logan in it (at least for a little while, I don't know if I'll include him again in another installment). **

**The next installment, well...two troublemakers will be making an appearance, but I'm not going to say who! Hehehe, ooooooohhhh!**

**As always, review and be merry, I appreciate all criticism but prefer positive haha!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	15. Join Me in Death

_Reaver's Servants_

Join Me in Death

The sound of two brothers arguing in the early morning didn't wake up the residents of Millfields, unless one counts their mother. The poor, exhausted woman didn't bother breaking up the two. She didn't really see a point anymore. She just sat there and watched them argue over any little thing and sighed. She didn't feel like a failure as a mother (not usually, anyway), but somehow felt she gave her sons too much leeway. She tried being strict with them, sending them to good schools with even stricter headmasters, and even stricter punishments. Of course, their father didn't help much. She looked out among the waters of Bower Lake and sighed mournfully. Pretty ironic, for the ghostly mother.

Mrs. Elizabeth Spade (deceased) looked at her two squabbling sons (Max and Sam, also deceased) and sighed again. She had pretty much given up at this point in…death…and settled for watching them disturb and scare off whoever decided to visit the graveyard. In life, she tried to protect her sons from their father's adventurous spirit. Mrs. Spade loved her husband dearly, but his adventurous side got him into a lot of trouble and took him too soon from his family. They never found his body after the kraken attack, so he wasn't buried anywhere near her. Something in her head made Mrs. Spade think he planned that. With another sigh, she looked over at her sons again and huffed.

"Well, maybe if you were smarter, we wouldn't have gotten caught!" shouted Max.

"Maybe if _you_ were smarter, it might have actually worked!" shouted Sam.

Listening to her sons argue back and forth would have given Mrs. Spade a headache in life, but being dead gave her no excuse to rub her temples. "You're both dumb as rocks! Now get back in your graves!" she shouted to the two quivering ghosts. Afraid of their mother (even in death), the men happily obeyed and wisped back into their graves. "I don't know why I bother anymore." She muttered to herself. "Oh, where did I go wrong? Besides letting those poor sods that found those two at the bottom of that pit bury them next to me." Recounting her sons' deaths never put Mrs. Spade in a good mood. "I did everything I could to keep them out of trouble as children but even as adults and ghosts they still cause me nothing but heartache."

Mrs. Spade looked off near the lake gazebo at some nobleman's servants preparing for a wedding to take place that afternoon. "Oh, I never got to plan a wedding for either of those idiots. It would have been nice to see at least one of them settle down." She lamented, watching the crew string flowers along the bridge railing. "Maybe some grandchildren, too…" she sighed. It was the Mrs. Spade had an epiphany. "Wait…what is stopping those two from getting married now?" she smiled and looked among the graves. "I bet if those two had wives, they'd be forced to quit their idiotic adventures. Even if it didn't, they'd be someone else's problem and not mine!" she mused, happily. Sadness quickly adorned her face. "Oh, what self-respecting ghost woman would marry those two idiots?" she asked herself. After some thought, Mrs. Spade chuckled evilly. "Well, I might be able to fish a few out from the living world…"

_Meanwhile, a Lakeview Manor_

A horrible heat wave had descended upon Albion. Millfields in particular was affected pretty hard. Everyone in Lakeview Manor seemed to be drudging about like zombies. Every window open couldn't keep the servants or their master from feeling like they were melting. Reaver had sent Barry out to get the morning mail. "Better him than me." He said, as Rosie served him some cold orange juice.

"Mail call!" yelled Barry, walking into the manor. He wasn't wearing his uniform jacket, just his undershirt and pants. Usually, Reaver would punish him for being out of uniform, but seeing as he didn't want his servants to melt, he made an exception for today. Everyone made their way to the foyer, looking like sweating zombies. The girls weren't wearing their stockings and Gordon had his uniform jacket wrapped around his waist.

"Alright…" Barry sorted the mail and wiped his forehead with his arm. "Reaver, Reaver, Reaver, Barry, Willa, Beryl, Reaver, Reaver, Gordon, Reaver, Logan, Sarah, Rosie, Reaver, Reaver, Reaver, and….Reaver." Everyone walked up and took their respective letters.

Reaver took his stack and walked toward the trash can. "Lawsuit…" he said softly, as he tossed the envelope in the trash. "Lawsuit, lawsuit…" _plunk, plunk_ went each letter into the trash can. "Lawsuit, death threat, lawsuit…" he looked at one envelope that was dripping in a red substance. "Voodoo curse…" right into the trash can it went. "Lawsuit, lawsuit, and…love letter from Benjamina…" he threw each letter into the trash, took out a small box of matches, lit one, tossed it in and watched the trash can burst into flames. "I hate sorting mail…" he murmured to himself, as he walked back into the study. "Gordon, after about five minutes put that fire out."

Logan looked at his letter, which had the royal seal on it. "Oh, it must be from my sister." He said, happily taking his letter into the study to join Reaver. Rosie looked over her letter and pointed it away from her face. She opened it, expecting it to explode, but was surprised when it did nothing.

Gordon opened his and read it to himself. "Ahh, my aunt finally decided to sell the family business." said Gordon, as he happily folded up his letter.

"What business was it?" asked Rosie, looking over her letter.

"Her store makes those little plastic things on the ends of shoelaces." said Gordon. "You wouldn't think a shop like that would have much competition…" he added, shaking his head.

Barry looked over his letter and then at Miss Sarah. She smiled happily at her letter. "Who sent you a letter, Miss Sarah?" he asked, folding up his letter.

"My older brother, Geoffrey; He's doing fine." She said, simply with a smile.

Miss Sarah walked away as Barry sighed softly. "He's doing fine…that's always been her response whenever we ask about her only living family." laughed Gordon, as he poured water on the trash can fire. "Not surprising, though. She never had a good relationship with her parents. I think it might have something to do with her deceased fiancé." Gordon left the manor with the burnt out trash can. Barry just stood there and sighed.

The day went on, the afternoon becoming muggy, which made Rosie's daily laundry duty unbearable. She stood outside, hanging laundry, just begging for wind. "It is so damn hot." She said to herself.

"Why not take a break?" asked a voice behind her. Rosie glanced behind herself and saw Logan, drinking a glass of lemonade. "Miss Sarah made lemonade, and it's quite refreshing. We can stand in front of the ice box with the other servants, if you want." He said, taking a gulp.

Rosie just glared at him. "Well, unlike a certain house guest, I have chores to do. Mr. Reaver's frilly unmentionables won't wash themselves, despite how much he whips his engineers at the factory to make that happen." Rosie finished hanging the last of the laundry. Logan stood close to Rosie, as she wiped sweat from her brow.

At 5'8", Rosie was tall, but she barely made direct eye contact with Logan. "I don't see why you detest me, unless it's for the same reasons the rest of Albion does." He said. "You've avoided me my entire visit, unless I've requested something, and the snide remarks are becoming tiresome."

Snorting, Rosie folded her arms and just looked at him. "I just find it a bit hard to believe it took eating roots and deep thinking for you to realize you were a monster to everyone." said Rosie.

"Something tells me that's not what's wrong." said Logan. Rosie said nothing. She just picked up her basket and walked away. Logan shook his head and went back inside.

When nighttime came, ghostly Mrs. Spade sat on a rock overlooking Bower Lake. "Now, let's see if there is someone around here for whom my boys can marry." She turned into a wisp and floated about. She floated past windows, looking in on each home. No one seemed to fit anything she liked, until she came across Lakeview Manor.

Mrs. Spade kept herself well hidden and watched the grounds. Reaver and his servants were outside, enjoying the cool evening. Sitting on a lounge chair, Reaver held up his empty glass, prompting Miss Sarah to refill it, which she did. Mrs. Spade took one look at Miss Sarah. "She's very obedient, even for a servant." Mrs. Spade whispered to herself as she wisped in to get a closer look. She watched Miss Sarah scold the Willa and Beryl for goofing around too close to Reaver. "Very motherly, as well…" mused Mrs. Spade. She looked over at Rosie who was taking in the day's laundry. "Very focused, and that no-nonsense look is just what my boys need." giggled Mrs. Spade. Rosie stopped dead in her tracks and looked around.

"What's wrong, Rosie?" asked Miss Sarah, taking her empty jug into the manor.

"I don't know…but I sense something." Rosie whispered, as she followed Miss Sarah inside. Inside the manor, Rosie watched Miss Sarah make another pitcher of lemonade. "Miss Sarah, may I ask you something?" asked Rosie, leaning against the counter.

"Of course, Rosie. You know you can ask me anything." said Miss Sarah, as she cut a few lemons.

"I was wondering…how do you know when you're falling for someone?" Rosie asked, with a blush. Miss Sarah blushed too and stopped what she was doing.

"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to go back to cutting lemons.

"Well, Lord Logan's presence here has knocked me from my routine, and though I feel like I can't stand to be around him, I don't know if I want to see him leave when he does." Rosie's voice quivered, which was something Miss Sarah never heard from Rosie.

Miss Sarah giggled and sighed softly. "Rosie, you've been in love before. I know you won't admit it, but you felt very deeply for Mr. Finn. He broke your heart, I know, but it is okay to feel something for someone else. Mr. Finn had a duty to the army, and I don't think he would have given all that up to travel with you in the circus. We had plenty of clowns anyway." The two girls laughed. "If you think there is something there for Lord Logan, you should at least talk to him about it, and see if he feels the same way. If he doesn't, it'll hurt for a while, but at least you'll have your answer."

Rosie nodded and looked at Miss Sarah. "You know, Miss Sarah, the same could be said for you and Mr. Hatch…" Rosie left the kitchen and went to put laundry away. Miss Sarah blushed and tried to focus on making lemonade.

Later on in the evening, Miss Sarah went outside to collect the dishes Reaver left (he decided to eat dinner outside and enjoy the cool evening). The wind started blowing softly, prompting Miss Sarah to look up. "Oh my, so that's why it's been so hot lately…" she said, as she stared into a dark and ominous storm cloud. Miss Sarah didn't see the wisp come up behind her, but she felt a presence behind her. "Who's there?" she asked, softly. She turned around and watched the wisp turn into Mrs. Spade.

Inside the manor, Rosie turned her head in attention as she served Reaver and Logan some wine in the study. "Something isn't right…" she muttered, as she placed the wine down.

"I think Rosie caught the scent of something troublesome." said Reaver, as he watched Rosie leave the study.

Reaver and Logan watched Rosie leave the manor from where they were sitting. "Should we…follow her?" asked Logan.

"Following Rosie has made me discover things I'd rather not know." said Raver, as he slouched in his chair with his newspaper. After a bit, Reaver looked up. "But yes, we should." He said, as he and Logan got up.

Going outside, Reaver and Logan saw the servants standing near the gate, staring at something. "If you turkeys don't put your heads down when the rain comes, you'll drown." laughed Reaver, as he and Logan approached the crowd. He got no rebuttal. He did, however, look off into the distance as a weird fog engulfed the graveyard down the way. "Well, that certainly doesn't look natural."

Nobles that lived nearby stood in awe of the phenomenon and only muttered as the storm clouds started moving closer.

"Do you see that?" asked one noblewoman.

"It's unearthly!" said another.

"Hey, isn't that maid one of Reaver's?" asked a servant, pointing to Rosie, as she made her way toward the cemetery.

"It's the scary one. I bet she has something to do with this!" said a nobleman.

Rosie, as if in a trance, walked up the path toward the cemetery and stopped at the fog. "Miss Sarah?" she called, not fazed by the moans of the dead. She squinted and looked within the unearthly fog. She saw Miss Sarah, in a tattered wedding gown, out cold next to a tree.

"Hurry and get everything ready!" shouted Mrs. Spade. "We already have one bride, we just need another now. And make sure my idiot sons are ready!" she shouted to the wisps flying about. The ghostly mother looked about and smiled. "Now…let's see…" Mrs. Spade looked over once she felt Rosie's presence. "Ahh, she's delivered herself!" Mrs. Spade turned into a wisp and met Rosie outside the fog. "I can sense something about you; that you're not going to go as quietly as your friend did." Just standing there, Rosie saw wisps surround her. "Luckily, I came prepared."

The wisps turned into hollow men and grabbed Rosie. She didn't struggle. "I foresaw this happening. I won't fight back, but let me assure you, you will fail. I don't know how, exactly, but you will fail." said Rosie, as the hollow men took her into the fog.

Laughing haughtily, Mrs. Spade had Rosie dragged toward Miss Sarah. "Not if we get this over with by midnight." She muttered, following her hollow minions.

Reaver and his servants made their way to the fog as the wind from the storm became stronger. "Well, this is it. Now what?" Reaver shouted over the loud wind.

Barry looked into the fog and his eyes widened. "I see Miss Sarah and Rosie!" he shouted, as the other servants looked in.

"It's some kind of…wedding?" asked Willa.

"Ahh and me without a gift. This is awkward." said Reaver, taking out his gun. The servants tried to walk through the fog but as they did, they felt as if they were walking into a wall.

"What's up with this fog?" asked Beryl.

"It is enchanted." said Logan, with a sigh. "Well, whoever did this did spotty work. It's thin right here." He pointed out.

"Well, I guess we'll have to keep pushing then." said Reaver, jovially. The servants put their weight together and started pushing against the wall.

Within the fog, Mrs. Spade straightened up her sons. "Alright, now don't mess this up!" she shouted.

"But mom, I don't want to get married!" shouted Max.

"The one that's awake is scaring me!" whined Sam.

"Shut it! It's about time you two settled down. We have until midnight to do this! Now, go say hello to your future brides and get to know them. NOW!" she shrieked.

The ghostly brothers looked at each other and then at Rosie and Miss Sarah. "Which one do you want?" Same asked his brother. Both ghostly brothers shrugged and made their way towards the two girls. Miss Sarah was still unconscious, but Rosie was wide awake and made it quite obvious she didn't like either of them.

Max reached his hand out to Rosie. "Hello, there. I'm Max Spade…" he said, nervously. Rosie hissed as her eyes started to glow. He recoiled quickly. "You can have her, I think I'll take the unconscious one. She doesn't look like she's going to tear my arms off. She's prettier, anyway." said Max, hiding behind Sam.

"You always take the easy way out. If you had only done that when we were in that pit, we wouldn't be having this problem." mocked Sam. "Fine, I'll marry the scary one and take one for the team, as usual, you damn coward." Sam smiled at Rosie. "So, you and I are to get married…so, how about a kiss, love?" he said as he knelt down.

"Touch us and you'll know what second death is." growled Rosie. The brothers stepped back. Rosie looked over at Miss Sarah, who was still unconscious. "How long has she been here?" Rosie demanded.

"Mom brought her here about an hour ago. She fainted when she saw Mom, and she's been out cold ever since." The brothers quivered.

"You two have any idea what will happen if this whole wedding actually happens?" snarled Rosie. The brothers shook their heads. "The moment your mother forces us to say I do, Miss Sarah and I will die and be in this limbo for eternity. I don't plan on being stuck here that long, so let us go NOW!" growled Rosie.

The brothers shook nervously. "Trust me, sweety, we would gladly do it in a heartbeat, if we still had beating hearts to speak of." said Max. "Frankly, you scare us more than the prospect of marriage itself. But we don't dare go against Mom…usually, anyway. "Besides, all the rotten things we've put her through, we believe she at least deserves to see us get married." The brothers nodded in agreement with each other.

"I hope she's not expecting grandchildren, because that's going to be impossible on many, many levels; and not just on the level of being dead." growled Rosie.

"Oh, I think she gave up on that hope long ago." smiled Max.

The storm outside the fog grew stronger. Mrs. Spade took it as a good sign and turned to her sons and their reluctant brides. "Alright, time to get this show on the road and marry off you two imbeciles!" shouted Mrs. Spade to her sons, their brides, and the hollow guests. "One of you, wake her up, now!" she shouted, pointing to Miss Sarah.

With a hollow man's nudge, Miss Sarah slowly woke up. "Oh my…I'm having that dream again…" she muttered, sleepily. When Miss Sarah realized she wasn't dreaming, she fainted again. Rosie looked up at the sky and then to Miss Sarah. The fog was having some type of effect on her.

Outside the fog, the wall was growing thinner. Barry looked inside and saw the girls, standing before a hollow man priest. "Miss Sarah!" he shouted, as he banged on the fog wall.

Reaver checked his pocket watch. "Hmm, ten minutes until midnight." He said, softly. Barry, by accident, finally smashed his way through the fog wall, and fell to the ground. Reaver and his servants rushed in, almost trampling Barry. Logan helped Barry up and they joined them. "Really, Rosie, next time send out invitations to your wedding!" shouted Reaver, brandishing his gun.

Mrs. Spade's eyes started to glow. "Get rid of them NOW!" she shouted to the hollow men.

Hollow men surrounded the servants, but they just smiled at each other. "Alright, troupe! You know what to do! Get this over with so we can have some cake!" shouted Reaver, with a disturbing smile.

"Yes, Mr. Reaver!" the servants shouted, as they ran full force at the hollow men.

With bones flying and hollow dust caking the air, the servants dispatched the hollow men quickly. Mrs. Spade looked at the hollow priest. "We don't have much time! Marry them now!" she shouted, as the priest started the vows.

Barry looked over from the hollow man he just smashed and started running toward them, brandishing the hollow man's weapon. He jumped in between the two couples and smashed the priest to pieces. "I guess he objects." said Rosie, with a smirk. It was at that time the rest of the hollow men turned back into wisps and floated away. Mrs. Spade let out a horrified shriek as the fog dissipated.

Rosie just looked at Mrs. Spade. "Told you." She said, snidely as she walked over to the servants.

"Are you alright, Miss Sarah?" asked Barry, walking over to her. Miss Sarah opened her eyes fully and looked around. With a softly smile, Miss Sarah yawned loudly and fell forward. Barry caught her and picked her up. She was surprisingly light. "She fainted again." He said, somewhat surprised.

With a chuckle, Reaver brushed the hollow man dust off his jacket and made his way toward the path with the others. "It's probably for the best, honestly. If she thinks this was all a dream, she won't freak out about it tomorrow." said Reaver, making his way over hollow man remains.

Mrs. Spade wailed loudly with her sons beside her. "Where did I go wrong?!" she cried, her sons comforting her.

"Look at it this way, Mom: do you really want them as daughter-in-laws?" asked Max, pointing to Rosie and Miss Sarah as the group left the graveyard.

"Yeah, what with their friends coming up all the time and disturbing the peace of our lovely boneyard. I mean, look what they did to our wedding guests." said Sam, pointing out the piles of hollow men bones. "Besides, you didn't go wrong anywhere in life or death. You were a spectacular mom, and you still are. You don't need to see us get married just to prove that." Mrs. Spade wiped her eyes and hugged her sons as they dissipated back into their graves.

On the way back to the manor, Barry, carrying sleeping Miss Sarah on his back, thought he heard the sounds of laughter coming from the hilltop graveyard. Barry sighed happily. _Maybe I should write my mother. It would be nice to see how she's doing…_ he thought, as he redistributed Miss Sarah's weight for easier carrying. Logan walked beside Rosie, who blushed softly.

Later that evening, Rosie knocked on Logan's door. She was carrying a tray with a tea set on it. Logan opened the door to his guest room, revealing he had just finished packing his bag. "The tea you asked for, Lord Logan." said Rosie, holding the tray up. Logan noticed there were two cups. He looked Rosie up and down. "May I…talk to you, Lord Logan?" she asked, softly. Logan invited her in, and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Reaver hadn't gone to bed yet. He stood by the window in his office and watched the moon as the thunder roared and the rain fell. He liked the thought of the cool rain, having had enough of the heat wave that had been plaguing the land. It was very late, and he knew everyone would be asleep. He sighed, softly and looked to the corner of the office at Reavie's basket. "Lucky you, you missed all the excitement." He said, as the cat purred in her sleep. Reaver sat down at his desk and took out his journal. He filled up his pen and began to write.<p>

"_Ahh, there is nothing like crashing a wedding to put one in a good mood. Truth be told, this is my first time crashing a ghostly affair, but it was still fun. Would have been nice to get some cake, though. Maybe I'll have Miss Sarah make a cake for dessert tomorrow night. She does make this delicious strawberry cake that is absolutely to die for…no pun intended, my darling journal. Seeing the ghostly mother tonight reminded me of my own mother. Granted, she lived in a different time…but my mind does go back to her every now and then. She didn't die with Oakvale; she died a few years prior. I do smile going back to those days of helping her on the farm after my father's death. The loving smile upon her face as she watched me do my chores from her rocking chair on the porch; the simple lunch of curds and whey with bread and fruit juice she had waiting for me when I finished my chores…"_

Reaver wiped his face as if wiping a tear away (if anyone asked him at that moment if he was crying, they would have been shot immediately). He heard Reavie wake up with a mew. Reaver smiled as the little tabby made her way to his lap. He scratched her ears and continued writing.

"_Tomorrow morning, my house guest, Lord Logan, leaves us and I am partially sad to see him go. I say partially because I don't like how he's upset the routine around here. I don't know how the servants feel about him leaving, I assume they are indifferent. Rosie will probably enjoy him leaving, as she's been rather annoyed by his very presence from day one. Of course, with Rosie, anything is an annoyance. Everyone in Millfields wonders why I keep her around. Well, to be honest, I rather like having someone like Rosie around. She's never dull for one, and she's a good maid; pretty obedient, as well. I wonder how obedient she is…I may have to test her obedience soon."_

Reaver lewdly smirked to himself as he closed his journal and put it away. He left his office quietly and started for his room, Reavie in tow. He was about to turn the corner when he heard Logan's door open. Hiding behind a pillar, Reaver watched as Rosie snuck out of Logan's room. Her hair was a mess and she was naked, save for the coat she wrapped herself in; Logan's coat. Her uniform tucked under her arm, Rosie made sure the coast was clear and sprinted off to her room. Reaver chuckled softly.

The next morning, the servants said their good-byes to Logan, who left without much else said. Life went back to normal (or what counts as normal around Lakeview Manor). Rosie may not have shown much care to Logan leaving, but it was obvious not having Logan around would take some getting used to, for everyone. He didn't leave much reminder that he was there, but he did leave something…

In Rosie's room, in the corner, sat Logan's guitar with his coat on a nearby chair.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**This is probably going to be one of very few chapters where Reaver doesn't have the last line. Weird, huh?**

**So, Rosie, am I right? Little about her: She is based on the character of Sakaki from Azumanga Daioh. Whenever I write about Rosie, I picture Sakaki, so it's a little easier to write about her. Her personality is not so much from the character she's based off of. But in one of the upcoming stories, she'll display one of Sakaki's mannerisms.**

**Before you ask, yes, Willa is somewhat based on Chiyo from Azumanga Daioh, but only in the aspect of being short, and wanting to be treated more seriously despite having a childish personality. You know, thinking about it, I haven't really described much of my character's looks, have I? Hmm, I should probably get on that in a story soon.**

**I was listening to a song by HIM called "Join Me in Death" which made me think up the idea for this chapter. I listened to it on loop while writing it. It was storming a lot while I was writing this, so it added to the spooky atmosphere. I loved it haha. We have been having a horrible heat wave here, lately, and it's all I could think about for a bit while writing, so I included it.**

**Next installment: They say ginger makes you forgetful, and Reaver is missing something…**

**As always, review and be merry, I appreciate criticism but prefer positive haha.**

**Tatty-bye, my doves!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.**


	16. Ginger Morning

_Reaver's Servants_

Ginger Morning

Something sweet wafted through Lakeview Manor on this early summer morning. From the kitchen to the foyer, beyond the main staircase and even towards the hallways, the smell of ginger tickled the senses of anyone who sniffed the morning air. Barry was one of the first to smell it, as he always woke up early to get everything ready. He went downstairs to find Miss Sarah already making breakfast, and the servants eating pancakes (except Rosie, who stood eating an apple). After a short conversation with Miss Sarah, Barry made his way upstairs to wake up Reaver.

In the corner table, the other servants happily gobbled down their pancakes. "Miss Sarah, these are delicious!" shouted Willa, digging her fork into another pancake.

"Leave some for Mr. Hatch, now." warned Miss Sarah, flipping another pancake.

"The ginger gives the pancakes a nice subtle flavor. I can't believe they grew so well." said Gordon, somewhat self-satisfyingly. "Oh, Willa; when you're done polishing Mr. Reaver's boots, just leave them on the front step and I'll grab them for him." Gordon added, drinking a glass of milk. Willa nodded as Beryl reached over her for the syrup pourer.

"I have a full day ahead of me. I have to clean out that fireplace in the study. It's gotten so dirty." Beryl murmured, drenching her pancakes in syrup.

"Why not just put a straw in that syrup pourer?" joked Gordon, looking over at Rosie. "Not having pancakes with us, Rosie?"

Rosie shook her head. "No, I'm allergic to ginger, remember?" She said, softly, finishing her apple. "Besides, ginger makes you forgetful." She said, as she threw her apple away.

"That's an old wives tale." said Willa, reaching for another pancake.

"Well, it's obviously true. Miss Sarah said save a pancake for Mr. Hatch, and you just ate the last one." said Rosie, nonchalantly.

With an embarrassed smile, Willa looked at her plate and giggled softly at the pancake sitting there with her fork stuck in it. "It's alright, I'll make more." giggled Miss Sarah. "I still have to make Mr. Reaver's tray."

Reaver shifted softly in his sleep as Barry slowly opened the door. "Master Reaver, time to get up." Barry said softly, as he shook Reaver awake. Reaver grumbled and rolled over. "Come now, Master Reaver, you want to set a good example for the servants. Besides, Miss Sarah is making a special breakfast for you." Barry said, jovially, as Reaver rose slowly.

His hair a mess and his eyes barely open, Reaver yawned and scratched his side. He glared at Barry, who was taking clothes out of the closet for the day. "What is so special about today's breakfast?" Reaver groaned as he sat up.

"Well, for one, it's breakfast in bed." said Barry, as he laid out an outfit on a nearby couch.

"Goody…" mumbled Reaver, sarcastically.

"And another…its ginger pancakes!" Barry licked his lips with a blush. After a big yawn, Reaver smacked his lips a bit.

In the kitchen, Miss Sarah flipped the last pancake onto the china plate and smiled as she reached for the syrup. "It smells delicious, Miss Sarah. I wish I could have a taste." said Rosie, as she picked up the plate and placed it on a tray.

Miss Sarah sighed apologetically as Rosie prepared the tray and balanced it properly. "I had forgotten you were allergic to ginger, Rosie. I'm sorry. If you want, I can whip up another batch without the ginger if you're still hungry." Miss Sarah said, with a smile.

"It's alright, Miss Sarah. Too much ginger makes one forgetful." Rosie placed the syrup pourer on the tray next to a small bowl of fruit and a cup of coffee.

Walking carefully, Rosie made her way to Reaver's room, and noticing the door was open, walked inside. "Breakfast, Mr. Reaver." She announced, as she placed the tray on a nearby table. Reaver sniffed the air as the scent of pancakes wafted to him. It made him smile, and feel like a small child again. Rosie prepared his plate and then let Barry take over from there as she went to pick up the laundry basket. Rosie grabbed the laundry basket and started to leave. She stopped when she heard Reaver almost inhale the pancakes. "Be careful, Mr. Reaver." said Rosie. "Too much ginger can make you forgetful."

Reaver watched as Rosie left the room. He swallowed what was in his mouth and laughed. "That's just an old wives tale." He laughed, as Barry filled up his cup of coffee. "I haven't had ginger pancakes since I was a child…" said Reaver, drinking his coffee.

"Wow, that is a long time." said Barry.

Reaver rolled his eyes and continued eating. "Delicious!" he shouted. "My own mother didn't even make them this good!" he continued to down his breakfast like a starving man.

With a chuckle, Barry finished laying out Reaver's outfit for the day. "Still, you should at least chew, or you'll get a nasty stomach ache." said Barry. Finishing his breakfast, Reaver stood up and walked to his already set out outfit, and then leaned against a nearby chair, grasping his stomach. "Told you…" muttered Barry, as he left the room. Barry walked up to Rosie in the hallway, who had gathered the laundry was Barry's room as well.

"Did you already eat, Rosie?" he asked. Rosie nodded.

"I had an apple, Mr. Hatch." She said, balancing the basket. "I'm allergic to ginger. Besides, it makes you forgetful." She said, carrying the basket full of clothes.

After downing some coffee to settle his stomach (which ironically made his stomach ache worse) Reaver started to get dressed. He put on his shirt and vest with a happy sigh. "Forgetful…what could I possibly forget? I go through this same routine every morning." He laughed, reaching for his hat. His hand touched the usual place on the table in his room, but found his hat missing. "What…who moved my hat?" he shouted, looking around. Barry walked back in to collect the breakfast tray. He ducked when a gunshot rang out. "Hatch, did you move my hat?" he shouted, looking around. Barry looked at the coat rack next to the door as Reaver tore his closet apart. "I don't ask for much, except for everything to be in its place, but apparently that's too much to ask too!" he shouted, as he threw clothes about. Barry took the hat off the coat rack and walked over to Reaver. "I mean, how hard is it to remember 'Do Not Touch Mr. Reaver's things'?" Reaver shouted, as he turned around. "When I find out who moved it, I'll…"

Barry held up the hat. "You must have placed it on the coat rack when you took it off yesterday." said Barry, handing the hat to Reaver.

Embarrassed, Reaver snatched up his hat and put it on. "Go make sure the rest of the servants are done with breakfast so we can start today properly." commanded Reaver, pointing to the door. With a soft chuckle, Barry left Reaver to fume in peace.

Going downstairs, Barry found the servants moving about in a panic. "Where are they?" shouted Willa, searching through a box. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!" she kept whining, as she almost tore a closet apart. Barry walked over to her and placed his balled fists on his sides. Before Barry could ask what she was doing, Willa ran up to him in a panic. "I was shining Mr. Reaver's boots, but now they've gone missing! I have to find them! Please help me, Mr. Hatch!" Willa shouted.

Barry rolled his eyes. "Where were you shining them?" he asked.

"Outside on the front steps, so I wouldn't get polish on the floor." She said. Barry stared down at her, making her embarrassment obvious. "Right…front step…" Willa muttered, running to the front door.

"Gordon probably already took them up to Master Reaver." said Barry, as Willa was turning the door knob. Willa stopped and chuckled to herself.

Barry shook his head and walked to the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was standing in the middle of the kitchen. "Mr. Hatch, I hope you won't think I'm stupid…" she started, holding a sponge. "…but I forgot what I was supposed to be doing at this moment." She whimpered. Barry studied her for a minute and motioned her over to the sink where a pile of dishes sat, waiting to be cleaned. As if it snapped back in her mind, Miss Sarah giggled as Barry stepped back. "Oh, right, I was washing plates. How silly of me…" she said, as she continued, both of them blushing.

As Barry was leaving the kitchen, Beryl staggered up to him. "Whoa…." She moaned, feeling about for something to leverage herself on. She looked dizzy. Barry chuckled as he watched Beryl spin around, trying to keep from falling over. "Mr. Hatch! Is that you?" she asked, her eyes closed and her hands out. She sniffed the air and walked up to him, feeling his face. "Yes, it is you, Mr. Hatch! I recognized your smell. Cheap soap and subtle, yet bad, cologne." She giggled, holding onto his arm.

Slightly offended, Barry sighed and put his free hand on his hip. "Where are your glasses, Beryl?" he asked.

"I took them off to clean out the fireplace hearth but when I reached for them, they were gone." She said, softly.

"Well, check the study some more, they couldn't have gone far." He said, redirecting her to the study. Barry felt the entire house had gone crazy. He had to get everything straight before Reaver came down. He then found Gordon, at the top of the stairs, trying to keep his wits about him. "Alright, what did you forget?" asked Barry, folding his arms.

"It's not what I forgot…" he said, looking as if he was trying to keep his laughter down. Barry's expression urged Gordon to continue. "Well, I went to Mr. Reaver's office to bring him his boots after Willa was done shining them, and he was in there, but…" Gordon snickered and walked down the steps.

Rosie walked up to Barry at that moment. "Everyone ate ginger this morning. I told them too much makes you forgetful." She said, softly as she walked down the stairs.

"Don't start with that again, Rosie." shouted Barry. "Women who are only wearing one stocking shouldn't point out flaws." He added, pointing to her bare leg. Rosie blushed and ran back up the stairs, toward the servant's hallway. Barry scratched his head and met the rest of the servants in the foyer, where they usually gathered to see Reaver off. "She didn't even eat any and she's forgetting things too." He laughed.

Beryl, having found her glasses, stood next to Willa, who had a smudge of boot polish on her cheek. Barry took out his handkerchief and licked it, wiping the smudge off her face. Gordon, still chuckling, joined them. Miss Sarah looked at him. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"You'll see in a minute." Gordon chuckled, trying to keep his laughter down. Rosie soon joined the rest, straightening her stockings. Barry walked off at that moment to dispose of the soiled handkerchief.

All the servants stood, and waited for Reaver to come down the stairs. They watched him approach the top of the steps, and the blushing and giggling commenced. "Good morning, my doves." He said jovially, as he sauntered down the stairs. "I'll be at the factory office today, so I won't see any of you until tonight. Be good, and do whatever Mr. Hatch tells you." He said, as if addressing children. Reaver stopped at Miss Sarah, who was blushing softly and trying to hold down her laughter. "Miss Sarah, have dinner ready for me when I come home tonight. I would like steak tonight, is that understood?" he asked. Miss Sarah nodded, blushing. "Use some of that ginger tonight. I hear ginger steak is quite delicious and your pancakes put me in the mood for ginger today."

Reaver looked at his servants. He noted they were all smiling. "Well, it's good to see everyone in such good spirits." Reaver said, with a smile. He picked his cane out of a nearby umbrella holder and started to leave as Barry returned. "Hatch, you're in charge as usual when I'm not around. Make sure everything on the chore list gets done today." He said, opening the door.

"Master Reaver…" Barry started.

Reaver waved his hand at Barry's concern and started to leave. "Now, Hatch, I know you can run things for me while I'm gone today. I've always put you in charge when I'm away and you have yet to disappoint. I should be back around sun down. Tatty-bye, everyone!" he shouted as he left.

Barry ran up the stairs quickly as the servants burst out laughing. "Well, they do say ginger makes you forgetful." said Miss Sarah, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I tried to tell him earlier but he just kept interrupting me whenever I tried." said Gordon, holding his side.

Beryl took off her glasses and held her hand to her eyes. "I am so glad I found my glasses." She laughed.

Rosie laughed, with a somewhat self-satisfied tone. "I guess we won't be having ginger with anything for a while." She laughed. Willa couldn't stop laughing long enough to say anything.

Barry zoomed by them, holding something under his arm. He flew out the front door, hoping to catch Reaver. This made the servants laugh harder. Barry ran up the path, where he could see the guard at his post, leaning against the wall of his little hut, laughing. "Master Reaver!" Barry shouted, trying to catch up to his boss.

Reaver smiled at the sunny day, thinking it was a good idea to walk today instead of taking a carriage. "Forgetful, the wonderful me? I swear my servants can be so ridiculously superstitious. I go through this routine every day." He said happily, noting the day was a lot cooler than he thought. "I mean, what could I possibly forget?" he muttered to himself. Reaver didn't notice a little ways behind him, Barry was running up, waving something in the air.

"Master Reaver! You forgot to put on pants!"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, you guys!<strong>

**Looks like Barry had the final line this time haha.**

**Just a quickie here I've been working on since…last night haha. Don't worry; he's wearing underpants and his boots, so he's not completely naked from the waist down. I just thought it'd be funny to imagine him half-way through Millfields and not realizing he was wasn't wearing pants until it was too late.**

**There is a Japanese folk belief that myoga ginger makes you forgetful, so I used that here. Myoga is good with miso soup, you guys should try it. Don't eat too much, though! Apparently, there are tons of ginger recipes online, and ginger steak is pretty good. You barely taste the ginger, it's barely a hint.**

**Next Installment: another quickie. Rosie's got a secret, and it's not what you expect, especially from Rosie! **

**I have quite a few quickies coming up for you guys! So, updates out the yin yang!**

**As always, please review and recommend me to your friends, and maybe I'll give you guys more Reaver in his underpants action! More detailed, though haha.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	17. Rosie's Secret

_Reaver's Servants_

Rosie's Secret

"Whose is this?" Reaver asked sternly, holding something in his gloved hand. Knowing this couldn't be good, every servant within earshot ran to the foyer, where Reaver was standing. They stood up straight, in a line, just like Reaver liked. He slowly walked in front of them, like a general addressing his troops. He didn't look happy, despite what was in his hand.

Reaver looked at them and frowned. "Alright, I want answers. Who claims ownership over this…ghastly thing?" he asked, holding up the thing that was in his hand. Why he called it ghastly, the servants didn't know. If anything, it was probably the cutest thing they had ever seen (well, the girls thought so, anyway). "Well, anyone?" he asked, again, leaning against his cane. "It was soiling my beautiful floors with its very presence; just lying there, doing nothing. We already have a cat, so why do we need something else that lies about and does nothing?" he asked, sternly.

In his hand, Reaver held a small white cat doll in a little flower dress. The girls recognized it as a doll most girls in Albion fawn over. "It's a Hi-Hi Pussycat doll!" shouted Willa, excitedly.

Reaver didn't seem surprised that Willa of all people knew what it was. "I am well aware of what it is, Little Bit. I just want to know who it belongs to." said Reaver. "Is it yours?" he asked.

Willa blushed and shook her head. "No, Mr. Reaver, it isn't mine. I haven't collected Hi-Hi Pussycat dolls since I was eleven." She said, with a blush.

"How disappointing; I was so looking forward to punishing you for leaving it on the floor." Reaver seethed through his teeth. "This hideous thing has no place in my manor!" he shouted, squeezing the doll tightly in his hand. The girls winced, watching this. "Do you all think I like it when my home is treated like a child's bedroom? No, I do not. I pride myself in keeping an immaculate home, and I am saddened to think my servants don't share my sediments." said Reaver, squeezing the little toy harder. "In fact, it breaks my heart a little that you all don't take the same pride in this beautiful home that I do." Reaver's voice started to crack up.

Miss Sarah, a bit heartbroken at Reaver's supposed sadness, stepped forward. "Mr. Reaver, of course we take pride in Lakeview Manor. It's our home too, and we clean it top to bottom every day to prove to you we love this home almost as much as you do." She reasoned.

"Then is it YOURS?" shouted Reaver, coming out of his sadness very quickly.

Miss Sarah cowered below him. "No, sir…it isn't…" she whined scooting back to the other servants. Barry just entered the foyer from upstairs as Reaver turned around. "Hatch, do you know who this belongs to?" asked Reaver.

Barry cocked an eyebrow at the plush toy and shook his head. "What is it?" he asked.

The girls looked at him shocked. "It's only a Hi-Hi Pussycat doll! The most highly sought after collectable doll series in all of Albion!" shouted Willa.

"Apparently, not so much, as no one is claiming ownership of this….thing." Reaver said, as he held the little doll by its dress with two fingertips. Reaver walked to Beryl, who was already nervous. "Well, Beryl? You've been awfully quiet…is that a guilty conscience?" he asked, shoving the doll in Beryl's face.

"_Je suis désolé, Monsieur, mais il ne m'appartient pas."_ cried Beryl, covering her mouth.

"Of course it isn't…" Reaver said, staring her down. Reaver smirked at Gordon, who had really nothing to say about the object in question. "Gordon, my good man, do you have a lady friend?" Reaver smirked.

Gordon blushed and shifted his eyes. "Umm…what do you mean, Mr. Reaver?" he asked.

"I mean, that if you had a lady friend in Bowerstone, she'd appreciate such a cute little…thing like this, wouldn't she?" he asked, squeezing the toy.

Gordon blushed as Reaver got closer to him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Reaver…but it's not mine." said Gordon, still blushing. Reaver smirked lewdly.

Walking up to Rosie, Reaver couldn't help but laugh. "Of course I don't think it belongs to you, Rosie." Reaver said, before Rosie could even open her mouth. "Someone as stoic and regal as you wouldn't possibly waste your time and money on something so…"

"It's mine, Sir…" said Rosie, quietly.

Everyone looked at Rosie with surprise. "What did you say?" asked Reaver, holding on to the doll tightly.

"It's…mine, Sir…" Rosie blushed lowered her head.

Reaver started laughing loudly. The servants were somewhat disturbed by this laughter. "You're joking, right?" Reaver sputtered, holding his side. "Tall, quiet, Rosie collects Hi-Hi Pussycat dolls?" he laughed even louder at the notion. Some of the other servants found it a bit hard to believe too. Rosie just blushed as she reached for the doll. Reaver pulled his hand back. "Well…we know who it belongs to, but a few questions still remain. One of them being why was it on my clean floor?" he asked, sternly.

Rosie blushed again. "I must have dropped it after I came back from Bowerstone earlier today."

Reaver blinked softly. "You mean, when you went into town to fetch the things Miss Sarah needed you saw it as an excuse to go shopping?" Reaver asked, angrily.

"No, Sir, nothing like that. I saw it in the toy store window. It was the last one, I…" Rosie, sounding like a child defending herself for wasting her allowance, quickly stopped talking.

"Well, this certainly is adorable. I never would have pegged Rosie for someone who collected cute things. Of course, I have my doubts. How do I know you don't use them in some sort of Gypsie ritual or something?" he asked, sternly. Rosie seemed offended by the accusation. "Well, either way, Rosie, you need to be more careful with what you leave lying around. As punishment for leaving this about where someone could trip and fall over it, I'm not letting you have it back. If you all want to dirty up the house like children, I will punish you like children." Reaver popped the doll in his coat pocket and tapped his cane on the floor three times. "Now, back to work, all of you." He shouted, leaving the foyer.

Rosie followed him, like an eager child. "Mr. Reaver, maybe we can…come to an agreement." She pleaded.

"My, my, Rosie…somewhat desperate to get this child's toy back, aren't we?" he asked, snidely.

"It's a collector's item, Mr. Reaver." She said, softly.

"So, it's worth money, then?" he asked, taking the toy out of his pocket. He tossed the little kitty doll in the air a few times and snatched it back into his palm. "I figured you of all people wouldn't waste your money on such a silly thing. How many more of these things do you have?" he asked. Rosie sighed and motioned for him to follow her.

Reaver had never been in Rosie's room (or any of the other servants' rooms for that matter). Whenever he pictured Rosie's room, he pictured creepy things aligning the walls, with macabre pictures and other things. When she opened the door to her room, his jaw dropped. It was nicely decorated with a few knick-knacks and some pictures, but adorning her bed and the shelf near her closet were cute plushie animals. Rosie blushed softly as Reaver looked about the room. "Well, this is…certainly a surprise…" he said, tapping his chin. "It seems our Rosie has a soft spot for cute things." He chuckled, softly.

"It's…my secret shame, so to speak." She responded. "I've been collecting Hi-Hi Pussycat dolls for a little while. It started with this one…" Rosie picked up a doll from her shelf. Reaver didn't look surprised that Rosie would pick this one. It was dressed in Gypsie garb and looked like something Rosie would like. "But then…it kept going…" she said, holding her hand up to her shelf.

"So, under the scary fortune teller is a cotton filled plushie heart, how cute." said Reaver, picking up a framed picture Rosie kept on her bedside cabinet. The picture was of Rosie, during her circus days. She wore a hooded dress in the picture which reminded Reaver of a certain blind woman he'd rather forget, and standing beside her was a man in Albion military dress.

"Mr. Finn gave it to me before we…stopped seeing each other, so to speak." She blushed. Reaver put down the picture and looked at Rosie.

"Well, they often say someone's decorating style reflects their personality. I guess under your fortune telling and scary exterior…" he motioned to most of the contents of the room. "…there sits a soft spot for all things cute." He said, pointing to the lone corner of Rosie's room that wasn't adorned with things from her Gypsie past. "Well, I guess we all are entitled to our hobbies. I doubt anyone will assume you collect them. They might just think you tear them up and use them for…voodoo or something." Reaver laughed. "Well, it's nice to know you aren't as scary as most people perceive you, Rosie. Well, that's a lie; this actually makes you a bit scarier." He laughed, as he left the room. Rosie sighed and sat on her bed.

Reaver made his way to his room and closed the door tightly. He sighed, took off his coat and laid his cane down on the bed. He reached into the coat pocket and took out the little kitty doll. In a sense, it reminded him of Reavie, who was probably napping in the office, like she usually was during the day. He smiled and went to his closet. He opened it, pressed a button, and the back of it opened up. He walked down the short corridor to a room. He took out a matchbook, struck a match, and the room illuminated as he lit the candle. Inside this room was adorned with plush carpeting, regal wallpaper, and shelves containing thousands of Hi-Hi Pussycat dolls.

"Ahh, hello my darlings!" he said, happily. "Look what Daddy has…" he cooed, showing the little doll to his collection. He walked to a shelf near the back and placed the small doll in its place of honor. "I can't believe she was the one that snatched up the last one. I will murder that toy store owner for not alerting me to this one coming in." Reaver fumed angrily to himself. "Flower Dress Pussycat is so hard to find."

Ashamed of his collection? Probably. Willing to murder anyone who found out? Definitely. He patted the dust off a few of the toys and slowly left the room. He looked behind himself as he grabbed the candle stick and started closing the doors. He sighed softly.

"Oh Hi-Hi Pussycat…ours is a love that can never be…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, you guys! Did you guys enjoy that twist ending? I hope so. I'm not good at twist endings, so haha yeah…<strong>

**Sorry this took so long. I haven't been feeling like myself and what moments of clarity I had went to trying to not fall into a fever induced coma haha. But, that fever could not beat the great Luna Peachie, no siree! Haha. Ahh, I am happy to be fully conscious again, hehe.**

**Well, my lovelies, I have some exciting news for you all! I am currently working on another fan-fic, if you guys don't mind moseying over to the Bioshock area and checking it out once it's up. I know, shameless self-promotion is horrible, but you know; have to get my stories out somehow haha. It's more serious than this fan-fic, but I think you guys might like it. It doesn't mean I'm going to end this story, trust me this one isn't over by a long shot. I have some surprises for you guys. You'll love them.**

**Next Installment: Reaver and his servants are going all natural, but not for the environment!**

**As always, thank you for your reviews and I appreciate my fans very much, which is why I write. I love you guys, you keep me writing. I appreciate all reviews and I thank you once again.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	18. What I Did On My Summer Vacation

_Reaver's Servants_

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

The doors to Lakeview Manor swung open. Never being so relieved to be home, Reaver and his servants drudged their way through the front doors. Reaver, on a crutch with a broken leg, hobbled his way inside, with the help of Gordon and Rosie. Throwing their bags onto the foyer floor, each bag sounded heavier than when they left. Reaver didn't have to say anything as the servants helped him go up the stairs, to his room. When his bedroom doors closed, the servants fell to the floor, exhausted.

"Well, that could have gone better." said Rosie, a bandage over her right eye.

"I wish it had." whimpered Willa, with what looked like hermit crap pinches all over her.

"I wish fall would go ahead and get here. All these summer activities that Mr. Reaver just had to do are starting to get exhausting…and damaging to our health." said Gordon, his arm in a sling.

Beryl, sunburnt to the point of looking like a cooked lobster, found it too agonizing to say anything. "Next time Mr. Reaver asks us if we want to go with him on a summer retreat, I think we need to realize it's a set-up." She finally groaned.

Everyone nodded in agreement. At that time, Barry and Miss Sarah walked in. Miss Sarah, with a bruised cheek and the ends of her hair partially burnt, helped Barry inside. Barry, with a bandage around his forehead and holding an ice pack to it, didn't seem to know where he was. "That man in the funny hat said we work here?" he asked.

Miss Sarah nodded. "Yes, Mr. Hatch, we work here. It's time to refill your ice pack." She sighed, taking the ice pack from Barry. Everyone sighed and stared at each other. Even little Reavie, looking disheveled and miserable in her carrier, couldn't force herself into a good mood.

"What a disaster." sighed Rosie. Everyone nodded in agreement. "…and we left the house with such high hopes…"

_**A Week or So Before**_

The boat ride was a long one. The servants didn't know why Reaver suddenly decided he needed to get away from Lakeview Manor, but they were thankful that he sat up front with Barry. It wasn't that they didn't appreciate going on vacations with their boss. They just didn't appreciate being woken up at such an early hour (well before sunrise), told they have less than an hour to pack a suitcase, and then being told they are going with Reaver to a very exclusive resort on the coast of Aurora. After having to hog-tie Miss Sarah to get her on and off said boat, they arrived in Aurora.

Reaver didn't explain much about where they were going. He said it was in Aurora, a desert land, and very few details other than that. Reaver and Barry smiled wide as the boat finally docked. A big, beautiful city emerged from the sands. Reaver himself was in awe. The servants (after untying Miss Sarah, of course), stood in awe as they disembarked and made their way to the waiting carriage. They expected a place like Bloodstone, but were greeted with a tropical paradise. "I heard it was beautiful but…I never imagined…" whispered Beryl, as she and the other servants looked upon the colorful buildings

The buildings were beautiful and the town looked clean enough. Citizens of Albion and Aurorans alike walked the streets, buying goods or enjoying the sights. It made Reaver smile bright as the carriage pulled into the town. The servants smiled.

"This place is beautiful!" said Miss Sarah, happily.

"This isn't the best part." said Reaver, with a lewd smirk. "This lovely city is no miracle, my darlings." shouted Reaver, from the couch seat, where Barry was driving. "It is the product of non-stop hard work and sweat. The Queen wanted more commerce and tourism between Albion and Aurora, and I told her to leave it all to me. Of course, she was skeptical at first, but in less than a year, Reaver Industries turned a dank fishing village on a rocky beach with murky water into a modern and bustling tourist trap next to miles of beautiful coast and crystal clear ocean." Reaver announced, self-satisfyingly. If there was anyone who could exploit something, it was Reaver.

The path through the city was a nice scenic one. All the shops and buildings were colorful and the people were friendly. Glancing at the map Reaver opened; Barry nodded and took a few turns. They soon found themselves at a gate. Barry waved to the person on the gate's tower and the man pulled a lever, opening the gate. "That man isn't wearing a shirt." Willa observed. The servants heard Reaver chuckle as the carriage made its way into the gated community. The servants looked anxious. Upon entering the gates, their jaws dropped.

"Something tells me that wasn't all he wasn't wearing…" said Rosie, trying to hold down her laughter. The gated community was pretty well populated…by people without clothes on.

"Welcome, my doves, to Albion and Aurora's first 'Clothing Optional' resort. I call it '_Dans la Nudité'!_ I enthusiastically oversaw the construction of this place personally." he shouted, jovially.

"In the Nude?" Beryl translated to everyone else.

"That's right, my darlings! For the next week, our vacation will be…all natural." Reaver shouted, pointing among the homes of waving naked people. Granted, a few people had clothes on, but not much clothing to be considered dressed.

Reaver laughed loudly as the carriage made its way along the now cobblestone path. "I decided that my vacation home should be in a more…natural setting." He added, as they pulled up to a small mansion on the edge of the colony.

"So this is why you told us to pack lightly! I just thought you didn't want to pay for the extra luggage on the ship!" shouted Willa.

"Well, that was a part of the reason, but not the main reason." laughed Reaver. Upon entering the summer home (which was somewhat smaller than Lakeview Manor), the servants looked around at the tropical décor. It made them smile.

"It looks like we're living in a pineapple smoothie!" said Willa, jovially.

Reaver laughed and patted her on the head. "Adorable. Now, this home is smaller than my humble manor back in Millfields, so some of you will be sharing rooms. They should be on the other side of dining room. Hatch and I will have the upstairs bedrooms." said Reaver, pointing to the ceiling. Reaver knelt down and let Reavie out of her little carrier. She stretched and went off to explore. "So, go get yourselves settle in and…undressed…and then meet me back here in the foyer in about ten minutes." Reaver licked his lips and stared at each servant lustfully, then took out his pocket watch.

"Why do we need to be undressed? Isn't this place clothing optional?" asked Miss Sarah, nervously.

Reaver laughed and gave her a lewd smile. "Yes, but your jobs during your stay here aren't. I want everyone in the buff. That is a direct order from your boss." shouted Reaver. Beryl raised her hand. "Yes, Beryl?" asked Reaver, somewhat exasperated.

"Do glasses count as clothing?" she asked.

Reaver sighed. "In this case, no." Reaver looked at his pocket watch again and flipped it open. "Alright, my dears, you have ten minutes. I will be timing you, by the way…GO!" he said, fast. The servants picked up their respective suitcases and ran to find the servant's quarters.

Reaver's bedroom looked almost identical to his room back in Albion (same color scheme, anyway) and stuck out from the rest of the house. Barry put down Reaver's luggage and started to unpack. "Ahh, the sea air, the smell of tropical foods being cooked…" Reaver sashayed over to the window and drew back the curtains. He stared lustfully at the beach, with everyone walking about in their birthday suits. "So natural…" he growled.

Barry rolled his eyes and placed articles of clothing in the closet. "Are you sure this was a good idea, Master? How do we know the servants will have a good time here?" asked Barry. Reaver laughed and dismissed Barry's concern.

"Personally, Hatch, I don't care if they have a miserable time or not. The important thing is that I have a good time and they are here to keep me entertained." Reaver opened the window and let the outside aromas fill the room. Barry tried not to stare out the window. "Ohhh, dearest Hatch, don't be so shy. Granted your skin is pale and you probably shouldn't be out in the sun for long periods of time anyway, but even you can find something fun to do during our stay." He laughed. Barry sighed. He wasn't much for confidence, and being at place where everyone was naked all day, all the time wasn't much of a booster. "I will be going into town later on this evening. So, you're in charge tonight after I leave." said Reaver, as he started to undress. "Now, hurry along to your room and get settled in. I expect you downstairs and in the buff with the other servants in…" Reaver looked at his pocket watch. "…four minutes ago…" Reaver cocked an eyebrow as Barry left the room.

Wearing nothing but a lewd smile, Reaver descended the stairs and smiled at his servants. He knew what Willa looked like naked, now it was time to see the rest of the troupe. Reaver chuckled softly as the servants hid themselves from him. "Now, now, my dear servants, no need to be shy." He laughed, with the stair railing the only thing covering him. Everyone was naked, save for Miss Sarah, who was wearing only an apron. "I thought I told everyone to get undressed." He said, somewhat angry.

"Mr. Reaver, with all due respect, cooking without clothes on is very dangerous." She said, blushing deeply. Reaver looked at her, as if wanting to know more. "I'd rather not explain how I know that." She added, still blushing.

"Fair enough. You may keep the apron, but nothing else!" said Reaver, waving his hand in the air. "Alright, my lovelies, you all know your duties." He looked among his servants, who were still blushing. "Girls, the house needs to be fixed up, so get to it." He shouted, pointing in one direction. Willa, Rosie, and Beryl, still covering themselves with their arms, slowly side-scooted in the direction he was pointing in. "Gordon, go outside and set up the lounge furniture on the porch facing the beach." Gordon nodded and as soon as Reaver turned his back, he ran. "Miss Sarah, go make lunch. I made sure the kitchen was stocked ahead of time so feel free to make whatever. I expect it on the porch as soon as you're done." Reaver said, as Miss Sarah slowly walked past him. The strings of her apron conveniently covered her behind.

Reaver smirked, making his way to the outside. "I swear, I didn't realize my servants were such prudes…this could be fun." Reaver did enjoy tormenting his servants, which was one of the reasons he had them come along. He looked up at the staircase and saw Barry coming down slowly, wearing a towel.

"I won't wear my uniform, but I am keeping the towel on." Barry said, pulling the towel a bit.

Reaver shrugged. "Nothing I haven't seen before, Hatch. I mean, me and you have had our run-ins…" Barry just stood there as Reaver laughed. Barry had a scrawny figure with a few traces of muscles here and there. Reaver rolled his eyes. "I swear, what is the point of coming to a clothing optional facility if I'm the only one enjoying it?" he sighed, making his way to the backdoor. Shaking his head, Barry just followed loyally.

Outside on the porch, Reaver, reclined on a lounge chair, was certainly enjoying the view. Not of the beach, of course. Reaver sipped his fruity drink happily as Rosie brought out his lunch. "Has Miss Sarah calmed down a bit?" he asked, looking Rosie up and down.

"Not really. She's always been a bit private as far as her body goes. Back in the circus, she never changed in front of the other girls in the dressing rooms. Always waited for everyone to be gone or she dressed in the outhouse." Rosie explained, with a shrug.

"Tell me, Rosie, do you know whether or not Miss Sarah has ever…'been' with someone?" Reaver asked. Rosie shook her head and wandered off to help the others.

With a jaunty laugh, Reaver sipped his drink again as he eavesdropped on the conversations of his servants. All of them, save for Miss Sarah, were outside, doing something productive. "…but really, if you get past the initial awkwardness, it's not so bad." said Willa. Beryl smiled, though she still blushed. "It's good to see everyone's brands have healed nicely." Willa giggled.

"I guess this vacation isn't so bad. I mean, granted we had to bound and gag Miss Sarah to get her on the boat, but other than that, this place is pretty nice." said Gordon.

Rosie then joined them. "The sea air is nice and refreshing…" she said, softly. Everyone stared at Rosie. At 5'8", Rosie was tall and very buxom.

"Big…" muttered Gordon, not taking his eyes off Rosie.

Rosie covered herself with her arms and blushed. "Servants!" shouted Reaver, clapping his hands. "I have a wonderful idea!" he said, walking up to his servants.

"Last time you said that, we ended up being chased by a horde of angry Hobbes." said Willa.

"Well, this time it doesn't involve poking something awake with a stick." assured Reaver, tossing a ball in the air with one hand. "We're going to play volleyball! Men against women!" he shouted, happily. Divided into two teams (Reaver, Barry, and Gordon on one side and Rosie, Willa, and Beryl on the other with Miss Sarah serving as referee), the game was about to start.

"Alright, everyone, you know the rules!" shouted Miss Sarah. She blew into a whistle to start the game.

"I must warn you all, I am quite a shot!" shouted Reaver, as he served the ball. The ball came at the girls fast, who dove out of the way as it rocketed past them.

"I think I'll serve next, Master Reaver." said Barry, as the girls threw the ball back.

The game started out light and enjoyable, but eventually got intense. "Now, play nice, you all!" shouted Miss Sarah. "Hey! Foul!" she shouted again. Eventually, she just gave up and sat down. The girls seemed to be winning at this point, and Reaver didn't like to lose. The ball came at him fast, and he rebounded. It rocketed towards the girls. Rosie didn't dive away fast enough, and it struck her in the eye, knocking her down. Miss Sarah blew into her whistle. "Time!" she shouted, running towards Rosie.

Later that evening, everyone sat in the dining room. Miss Sarah finally walked in. "Well, is Rosie alright?" asked Willa.

Miss Sarah sighed and crossed her arms. "She's fine, despite a headache. Unfortunately, she won't be able to see out of her right eye for a while." Miss Sarah lamented. "I also had to use tonight's dinner to get some of the swelling to go down." She added, motioning to an uncooked steak on a plate.

Reaver sighed and stood up. "Well, I guess I can get something to eat in town. Kudos, Miss Sarah, on your first-aid abilities." said Reaver, leaving the dining room. "I am going to go get dressed. Hatch, you're in charge while I'm gone." said Reaver, as he left. Rolling her eyes, Miss Sarah walked toward the kitchen to find something else to make for dinner.

Very late that night, Reaver came stumbling in, drunk. "These Auroran ladies sure can party…" he sang to himself, trying to keep his balance. The house was dark, and he was too drunk to light a candle. He felt his way around the house, hitting a few plants and knocking over a few vases. "Alright, Reaver…one step at a time." He whispered to himself when he found the stairs. He took each step one at a time. One step, than the second, then the third, then the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and so on. As soon as he stepped on the fifteenth step, he slipped on a snag in the rug and fell backwards.

Everyone was awakened by Reaver's painful yelling and the thumps he made as he cascaded down the stairs.

In the early morning hours, Barry found the servants waiting for any word on Reaver's condition. Of course, everyone was in the buff, as per Reaver's orders. "Well, the doctor said he's going to be fine, but…" Barry scratched the back of his head. "…but, he's got a broken leg." He finished. Everyone gasped, even Rosie, with a bandage over her eye. "He'll have to use a crutch to get around for a little while, but the doctor says it's not too serious." He added. "We'll just have to help him out a little more than we usually do. You know, bathing, dressing, that sort of thing."

"Isn't that your job?" asked Rosie, cocking her only visible eyebrow.

"Normally, yes, but it's the actually bathing and dressing part he's going to need help with." answered Barry. The servants stared at Barry. "I know it sounds undignified, but trust me, Reaver hates it as much…well, maybe not as much as you guys, but I think if we work together, we can make him feel better faster. We'll just take shifts, and before you know it, Reaver will be in tip-top shape again, so who's with me?" Barry just then noticed all the servants (save for Miss Sarah, standing there in only an apron) were gone. Barry sighed.

"That was a wonderful speech, Mr. Hatch." said Miss Sarah, with a smile. Barry, still wearing a towel, sat down in a chair nearby. "I'll help you take care of Mr. Reaver, Mr. Hatch." said Miss Sarah, sweetly.

With a blush, Barry stood and smiled. "I appreciate it, Miss Sarah. He said something about wanting scrambled eggs for breakfast." Miss Sarah nodded happily and turned around to walk away. The strings of her apron conveniently covered her behind. Barry blushed and tugged on his towel to make it a bit looser.

In the afternoon, Reaver sat in his lounge chair, watching the servants run around on the beach. Reavie, having made herself comfortable on Reaver's bad leg, purred softly. "Here's your lemonade, Mr. Reaver." said Rosie, as she placed the tray down. "Is your leg feeling better, Sir?" she asked, pouring him a glass.

"A little better; I won't be walking on it for a while, but whatever lets me spend more time with my beloved servants…" he laughed, as he took his drink.

Some seagulls hovered overhead as Miss Sarah brought out lunch. "I made shrimp cocktail for you, Mr. Reaver." She said, happily. "And here's a little for you, Reavie." She cooed, as she bent over to place a small bowl on the ground. Reaver growled lustfully, causing Miss Sarah to blush and hurry back inside. Rosie started to follow, but Reaver grabbed her by her hips and pulled her onto his lap.

"Rosie, we don't talk much, do we?" he asked, firmly holding her down. Rosie started blushing and immediately got up, hurrying back inside. Reaver laughed loudly and sighed. "Have to make your own fun when you have a debilitating injury." He sighed, happily, clasping his hands on his stomach. He winced in pain as Reavie jumped off his leg and made her way to her dish.

Willa sat on a towel and watched happily as Gordon built a sandcastle. "I always imagined sandcastles were homes for hermit crabs." She giggled. Beryl, lying sprawled out on a towel nearby, had fallen asleep in the early afternoon sun. She was snoring softly.

"I think the hermit crabs would complain about the noise too much." Gordon chuckled.

Willa looked over to her left side, and saw a hermit crab pop out of the sand. "Oh, hello there." She giggled. She softly picked up the little crab and softly placed it near the sandcastle. "Welcome home!" she shouted, happily. As the little hermit crab made its way into the sand castle, another hermit crab popped out of the sand. "Oh, he has friends." She said, happily. Another popped out, then another, and another.

"It looks more like an army of hermit crabs." said Gordon, putting the sand shovel down.

Reavie looked up from her little saucer of shrimp at a seagull, perched nearby on a fence post. Reavie knew it was eying her shrimp, and she hissed. The seagull flew away, but two more landed in its place. Reavie growled softly and more landed. Reaver, with his sunglasses on, felt something perch on the end of his injured foot. He pulled his sunglasses down and saw a seagull. "Get off me, you filthy thing!" he shouted, shooing it away with his hand. He watched it fly away only to look over and see Reavie missing. "Reavie?" he cooed softly. He didn't see the little kitten, but he did see a gaggle of seagulls pouncing on something.

It was at that time Barry came outside. "I brought a pillow for you, Master Reaver." He said, holding up a plush pillow.

Reaver leaned forward and Barry placed it behind him. "Hatch, did Reavie go inside?" he asked.

Barry shrugged and looked over at the commotion the seagulls were making. Reaver watched Barry panic and run over to the seagulls, shooing them away. He knelt down and picked up Reavie, who was wide-eyed and shaking. Her fur was disheveled and her bow was messed up. "I found her…" Barry muttered, bringing the frightened kitty to Reaver.

Behind them, Willa ran up and down the beach, screaming, covered in hermit crabs. Gordon ran up to Barry and Reaver. "Willa's covered in crabs!" he shouted.

"I think they make an ointment for that." said Reaver, picking up his drink to sip it.

A little later, in the kitchen, Miss Sarah applied aloe to Willa's pinch marks. "The marks should go away in a few days. Are you in any pain?" she asked.

Willa grumbled. "I feel like I've been attacked by the miniature version of the main course of a seafood platter, but no, it's just mostly uncomfortable." Willa hopped up from her chair and left the kitchen.

Miss Sarah placed her hand on her cheek and shook her head. "We've only been here two days and already I've had to administer first-aid to almost everyone here. Mr. Reaver breaks his leg, Rosie almost lost an eye, the cat nearly gets pecked to death, and now Willa gets attacked by hermit crabs." She sighed, filling a kettle with water. "I need a cup of tea." Just as she poured her cup, Miss Sarah jolted from her day dream when she heard a blood curdling scream. "Now what?" she huffed. She walked out of the kitchen and watched as everyone ran in different directions. Reaver hobbled past as fast as he could. "What is going on?" she shouted, as Gordon ran past.

"It's Beryl!" he shouted as he ran. Miss Sarah looked in the opposite direction and shrieked.

"Miss Sarah…help me!" Beryl whined, as she slowly made her way to Miss Sarah. Beryl, head to toe, was as red as an apple.

_Later that evening, during dinner_

"This place is a death trap!" shouted Reaver, as he and Barry ate dinner. "We've only been here two days and already everyone in this house has almost died!" Reaver cut into his roast aggressively. "Hatch, the moment we get back to Lakeview, I want you to oversee the selling of this place!" he shouted again, as he placed his fork to his lips.

Barry nodded and sipped his drink. "Well, anyways, as I was saying, Miss Sarah applied aloe to Beryl's pretty extensive sunburn. She can barely move without the horrible burning sensation." said Barry, placing his drink down. "Though, I'm happy to say Willa is doing a little better. She's still a bit shaken from the hermit crab encounter, though."

Reaver sighed and picked up his wine glass. "Well, we still have three days left here. Hopefully, something good will happen."

Outside, the servants were cleaning up the porch, using only tiki lights to help guide them. Beryl, only able to move in small paces, helped Gordon pack up Reaver's fold-up lounge chair. "Well, look at the bright side, the temperature's gone down." She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

"But we're all still naked and most of us are injured." said Rosie, wiping off the porch table. "I really just want this vacation to end." She added.

"A vacation from this vacation." giggled Willa, as she grabbed the empty pitcher from earlier.

"Alright, Beryl, now, slowly close this chair. If it snaps back too fast, it'll hurt." said Gordon, lifting the chair with Beryl, slowly.

"It might be easier if we do it this way." said Beryl, twisting the chair around.

"Look, don't play around with it, let's just get it done." said Gordon, as he tugged on the chair.

Beryl tugged in her direction. "Just let me help!" she shouted. She and Gordon tugged the chair in every which way.

Inside, as Reaver was about to sip his wine again, he heard the sounds of the lounge chair snapping shut and Gordon screaming. Reaver placed his hand on his face and sighed. "Miss Sarah!" Reaver shouted. Miss Sarah left the kitchen with her first-aid kit. She sighed as she passed by.

Miss Sarah tried everything to keep Gordon still. "Gordon, sit still, we have to sling this properly." pleaded Miss Sarah.

Gordon flailed his arms around. "It hurts!" he shouted, as one of his fists hit Miss Sarah in the cheek. She flew back into one of the tiki lights and it fell over, catching the ends of her hair on fire. She screamed loudly as Rosie ran inside to get a jug of water. She ran back outside, and threw the water on Miss Sarah. She stood up slowly, lamented the bruise on her cheek and the singed ends of her hair. Once his arm was set properly, Gordon spent most of the evening apologizing profusely to Miss Sarah.

The hour turned very late, as someone found their way to the kitchen for a midnight snack. No candles were lit, but this person wasn't alone. The sound of a crutch hobbling through the hallway could be heard. As this person made her way to the dining room table with her midnight snack, the sounds of the crutch came to a halt.

"You naughty little minx, wondering around at this hour. I ought to punish you for now being in bed." Reaver semi-growled, as he hobbled to the dining table. He grabbed hold of the person in front of him and started to feel around. "By the nature of your body shivering, I'm going to assume you're Miss Sarah." He said. She nodded, not that Reaver could see.

"What's this? A nightgown? Let's get this off, shall we?" he purred, tugging at her nightgown. Miss Sarah pulled away and made her way to the kitchen. "Ohhh, I love a good chase!" he growled, hobbling after her, with haste. "Now, now, dear Miss Sarah. No need to be coy with me. You can trust me…" he cooed pinning her to the counter.

Miss Sarah thought she heard footsteps behind them, coming from the hallway. "Someone is coming, please let me go…" she whimpered.

"Let them watch…I'll be gentle…I promise…" Reaver leaned in for a kiss.

Miss Sarah reached for anything. She grabbed a frying pan. As if expecting it, Reaver ducked as Miss Sarah swung it, but she hit something. Someone, actually. After reaching around and grabbing a candle, she lit it and shrieked softly. Barry lay on the floor, his head bleeding. "Oh no, Mr. Hatch!" she shouted, kneeling down to him. "I am so sorry, Mr. Hatch! Can you hear me?" she asked, as Barry tried to sit up.

Barry looked at Miss Sarah and smiled. "Well, hello pretty lady. Do we live here?" he asked looking around.

"Oh no…" grumbled Reaver. The other servants, having heard the commotion, ran into the kitchen. "Everyone get dressed! We are leaving!" Reaver shouted, as he hobbled out of the kitchen. Miss Sarah helped Barry up and went to find some bandages.

Barry, somewhat confused, looked among the servants. "Wow, the naked man with the broken leg seems mad at something." He said, softly.

* * *

><p>In the early morning hours, Reaver and his servants boarded his personal ship and left the resort. Miss Sarah was too busy tending to Barry to become sea sick this time. He spent most of the trip back to Albion in his cabin, trying not to get madder.<p>

Reaver, still fuming over the lost vacation, opened up his journal and found his pen among his unpacked belongings. He filled it up and began to write.

"_From no fault of my own or that of my circus rejects, this vacation has been a total disaster! Words cannot express my anger at this seemingly innocent adventure turning into Hell on the beach! I broke my leg, Rosie is blind in one eye, Beryl looks like a tomato, Willa was attacked by hermit crabs, Gordon has a broken arm, Miss Sarah is missing a few inches of hair and has a bruised cheek, and Barry survived being hit with a frying pan but now has lost his memory! Poor little Reavie survived being attacked by seagulls, but she's still a bit shaken. She won't leave her carrier now. The sooner we get back to Lakeview Manor, the better."_

Reaver closed his journal and sighed softly. He really didn't have much else to say about the short vacation. Except that he needed a vacation now more than ever.

"…strange, running around in the nude usually makes me happy…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha you guys!<strong>

**This took a while for a very good reason. I was also working on my new fan-fic over in the Bioshock area. And guess what? It's up now! Go check it out and review it! It's not a humor based story like this one, but I think you guys will like it.**

**I feel I kind of rushed this story, so if it feels rushed, I apologize. Just let me know, and Luna Peachie will work her magic to fix it up right for you guys hehe.**

**Next Installment: Miss Sarah isn't feeling well, so it's up to the others to cook for Reaver. There is no possible way this could back fire at all…**

**As always, review and be merry, my friends. And don't forget to check out my other fan-fic in the Bioshock area. It's up now for your viewing pleasure.**

**Tatty-bye, my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	19. Chicken Soup for the Deviant Soul

_Reaver's Servants_

Chicken Soup for the Deviant Soul

"_Cough, cough…"_

Miss Sarah's room seemed stuffier with all the medicinal supplies sitting around her bed. Shaking the thermometer, Rosie sighed softly and bent down. "Open wide, Miss Sarah." She said, softly. Miss Sarah opened her mouth and let the thermometer rest under her tongue. Rosie folded her arms and waited. Miss Sarah didn't like the thought of being babied, but seeing as she was too sick to even open her eyes all the way, she had no choice. The evening was warm, but Miss Sarah was shivering. After a few minutes, Rosie took the thermometer from Miss Sarah's mouth. "One hundred and three; Miss Sarah, you have a pretty high fever." said Rosie, placing the thermometer in a cup nearby.

Sitting up was hard to do, as every bone in Miss Sarah's body ached. "I can't be sick!" she shouted, her voice sounding more stuffy than usual. "I have to get dinner ready before Mr. Reaver comes home!" Miss Sarah tried to get out of bed, but Rosie softly laid her back down.

"Miss Sarah, you can barely stand, how are you going to make anything?" Rosie reasoned. "You stay in bed. I'll make you some herbal tea. That always makes me feel better." Rosie picked up the cup and thermometer and left Miss Sarah's room.

Rosie noticed Barry immediately as she closed the door to Miss Sarah's room. "Well, how is she doing?" he asked, sounding very urgent.

"She's got a pretty mean fever. She'll be alright, though, as long as we leave her alone and let her rest." said Rosie, handing the cup and thermometer to Barry.

"How mean are we talking?" asked Barry.

"One hundred and three, Mr. Hatch." Rosie sighed.

Barry gasped softly. "My mother had a home remedy she used to give me whenever I had a high fever." He said, following Rosie to the kitchen. "It tasted like tuna fish and it usually cleared my fever right up." He added, with a smile.

"As…disgusting as that sounds, Miss Sarah just needs rest and plenty of fluids." grumbled Rosie, as she reached into the cupboards of the kitchen.

"That's the beauty of it! It was drinkable!" he said, happily. "I remember the recipe, I'll make some!" Rosie grabbed the back of his jacket and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"There is no way you are giving Miss Sarah anything that tastes like tuna that needs to be drank from a cup! Why not just give her Reavie's cat food while we're discussing things that shouldn't be consumed by humans." growled Rosie. "If you want to help, go make sure she is comfortable. I'll bring up some tea for her."

Barry grumbled as he made his way out of the kitchen. Willa and Beryl ran up to him. "Did Rosie go check on Miss Sarah?" asked Beryl.

"Yeah, Miss Sarah has a high fever. Rosie says the best thing to do is leave her alone and let her rest." Barry folded his arms and looked at the two.

Willa and Beryl nodded as Barry shook his head. "Well, if Miss Sarah is sick, who's going to make dinner tonight?" asked Willa.

Barry scratched his head and thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Master Reaver is expecting his dinner when he gets home. Ironically, he asked for vegetable soup. He's probably not feeling well either." said Barry. "Can you cook, Mr. Hatch?" asked Beryl.

Barry shook his head. "I burn water, sadly. What about you two?"

Beryl started to panic as Willa beamed with happiness. "I can cook!" Willa shouted happily. Barry smiled softly but then noticed Beryl, who was a few steps behind Willa, waving her arms and silently shouting "NO! DON'T!"

"What can you cook, Willa?" Barry asked.

"Anything Miss Sarah can!" Willa shouted happily.

"Well, Master Reaver will be home in a few hours, and I don't have time to run into town and get something from a restaurant." Barry mused, rubbing his chin. "Alright, you're our temporary cook for tonight, just have Rosie and Beryl help you and for the love of everything, use a stool!"

Willa, not offended by the stool remark, smiled wide. "Just leave it to me! Mr. Reaver will love it! I just have to get some fresh veggies from Gordon." Willa ran excitedly out the front door.

Beryl sighed. "You have no idea what you've just unleashed on to Miss Sarah's kitchen, do you?" Beryl asked, as she walked away.

"Something told me I was going to regret it the moment I asked if anyone else could cook." Barry lamented, as he followed Beryl into the kitchen.

Miss Sarah sat up in bed, trying not to fall over. Most of her hair was bunched up in a nightcap, to help her cool down. "I hate being sick. I hate being treated like I'm a child." She mumbled, barely able to open her eyes. She heard a knock at her door. "It's open." She grumbled. Barry walked in, a smile on his face.

"Rosie sent me up with some tea, Miss Sarah." He said, happily carrying a tray with a tea set.

"You didn't have to bring it up, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah grumbled.

"Well, it's the least I can do; Rosie won't let me make you my mother's home remedy." He laughed.

"My grandmother used to make me onion soup whenever I was sick." mumbled Miss Sarah, as Barry poured her a cup of tea.

"Did you live with your grandmother?" he asked.

Miss Sarah shook her head. "She lived with me and my family until she died when I was six. My parents were always busy, so she watched me and my brother." Miss Sarah coughed softly.

Barry smiled and slowly handed her a cup of tea. "You don't talk about your family much, Miss Sarah." said Barry, as he poured a cup for himself.

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Hatch." She giggled, before letting out a little cough.

Barry chuckled and sighed. "Fair enough. What would you like to know?" he asked.

"You talk about your mother a lot. Is she still alive?" Miss Sarah asked, finally being able to open her eyes.

Barry nodded and added a sugar cube to his tea. "Yes, she is. I write her sparsely, though. A very private woman, my mother; ever since my father died, anyway." Barry sipped his tea softly. "She was very attentive though, and supportive. She worked long hours in a factory in industrial after my father died, but she always made time for me, no matter how tired she was." Sipping her tea, Miss Sarah smiled warmly, the steam from the tea opening up her nasal passages. "She moved to Brightwall after I left home. I write her every now and then." Barry sipped his tea again.

"I didn't see much of my parents growing up." said Miss Sarah, blowing softly on her tea. "After my grandmother died, it was usually just me and my brother." She sighed softly and sipped again. Barry smiled at Miss Sarah and poured her some more tea. Miss Sarah sniffed the air. "Mr. Hatch, do you smell eggplants?" she asked.

In the kitchen, Willa got to work chopping eggplants. Rosie, Willa's unwilling assistant in the task, stood close by. Willa raised the knife high and sliced unevenly into the poor little eggplant. "Alright, now after we've sliced open about five of these, we need to stuff them!" she said, excitedly.

"With what?" asked Rosie, wiping pieces of eggplant off of her face.

"More eggplant!" Willa shouted happily.

"Are you sure this is how you make vegetable soup? I don't recall there ever being…so much eggplant." said Rosie, looking at all the eggplant.

Beryl then walked in with a basket of vegetables. "Here are the veggies you asked for, straight from Gordon's garden." Beryl said, plopping the basket on the counter.

"Great! Now, I need one of you to cook the rice and then shuck the oysters." said Willa, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Rice? Oysters? Since when does rice or oysters go in vegetable soup?" shouted Beryl.

"The oysters are essential!" whined Willa, pacing the kitchen.

"How do we even know that? I haven't seen a recipe and most of your instructions don't make sense." Rosie reasoned, holding a bag of rice. "Willa, how many times have you successfully made anything edible? I've only seen you cook a few times and each time something goes horribly wrong."

Willa fumed as Rosie and Beryl each discussed the times when Willa made anything. "Remember the ringleader's birthday dinner before Miss Sarah joined the circus?" asked Rosie.

"Yeah, who knew a caravan roof could blow that high?" said Beryl. "And let's not forget the time those clowns had to go to the hospital."

"What about when the lions got sick?"

"Or how about that riot when we performed in Oakfield a few years back?"

"And let's not forget the time we had to cancel an entire show in Bowerstone!"

Willa's temper reached its point and she screamed. "Okay! I get it! I have had a little trouble cooking in the past!" she whined.

"Well, it might help if we had a clear recipe." said Rosie. "Do you have it on you, Willa?" Willa quivered for a second. "Well?" asked Rosie. Willa shook her head in shame and whined a bit.

"Well, in that case, maybe we should look for Miss Sarah's recipes. I'm sure she doesn't keep them hidden." said Beryl.

The girls split up and looked around the kitchen, opening drawers and shifting things around. Willa crawled into a cabinet and looked around. "I can't find anything. Does she keep her recipes in a special place? Does she have a cook book or a tin full of index cards?" asked Willa.

"I'm not sure. I've seen her do research on certain dishes Mr. Reaver asked her to make, but I'm not sure if she keeps any reference." answered Rosie. "Miss Sarah is pretty modest, so I doubt she would depend on her abilities alone. Even someone like Miss Sarah needs a reference."

Meanwhile, upstairs, Miss Sarah laughed softly at Barry's story. She already looked like she was feeling better, though her body still ached. "…and then he said, 'Why not put your money where your mouth is and let the gold do the talking!' and that, Miss Sarah, is how Master Reaver got me to stuff ten sea urchins down my pants." He chuckled, softly as he blushed deeply.

Miss Sarah giggled softly and finished her tea. "Oh my, now I see why you don't tell that story often. It must have been painful!" she giggled.

Barry only chuckled softly. "Well, it seems we're out of tea. I should probably go make sure the girls haven't destroyed the kitchen yet." He said, picking up the tea set. "You should be getting your rest, anyway." Barry left Miss Sarah's room and made his way to the dining room. He sighed happily, but his smile quickly went away when he heard crashing coming from the kitchen. He ran downstairs and to the kitchen, watching papers and utensils fly everywhere. "What are you three doing?" shouted Barry.

"Oh! Mr. Hatch, we're looking for Miss Sarah's recipes." said Willa, digging through the pantry with a colander on her head. "Do you know if Miss Sarah keeps any references anywhere?"

Barry walked over to the counter and opened a drawer. He took out a small yellow tin box and then took the colander off Willa's head. "Here. Now, clean this up before Master Reaver gets home!" he shouted, handing the tin box to Willa.

The girls watched Barry leave the kitchen. "Alright girls, let's see…vegetable soup…veggie soup…Here we go!" Willa shouted happily, holding the index card up. "Alright, a big pot of veggie soup coming right up!" the girls excitedly ran about the kitchen, gathering this and that.

Outside, Gordon pulled weeds from the flower bushes and tossed them into a basket. Barry sat nearby, on a cement bench. He had come outside to escape the warzone that had become the kitchen, but he could still hear pots and pans clanging about. Barry knew he had made a horrible decision, but he still tried to ignore it. "Well, what do you wish to know about Miss Sarah?" asked Gordon, stabbing his trowel into the dirt.

"Well, whenever I asked about her parents, she just changed the subject." said Barry.

Gordon sat up and wiped his brow with his sleeve. Despite the chill in the air, Gordon worked up quite a sweat in the garden. "Not surprising. She didn't tell me much, but from I do know, and don't tell her I told you this, her parents were always trying to marry her off. Ever since she was a kid, she felt more like cattle at auction than a child; afraid of being sold to the highest bidder, so to speak. It stopped when she began a romance with one of those elites. Of course, it started back up again when he died. I guess it was around that time she decided she had just plain had enough and left." Barry only nodded, knowing nothing else needed to be said. Gordon stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow again. "Mr. Hatch, Beryl came out here earlier with a big basket and asked me for some vegetables. What is Miss Sarah making tonight?" he asked.

"Miss Sarah's not feeling well, so Rosie, Beryl, and Willa are making dinner. Master Reaver asked for vegetable soup, so they're making that. Though, the kitchen smells like eggplants and they tore the entire pantry apart looking for Miss Sarah's recipe tin." said Barry.

"This won't end well." warned Gordon.

Inside, the girls clamored around the kitchen. "Alright, it says 'combine all chopped vegetables into the pot with chicken broth'." Willa read from the card. "Do we have chicken broth?"

Rosie shrugged and went to the pantry. "No, we don't, but I think we have some chicken in the ice box." She said, walking out of the pantry and going over to the ice box.

"How do you make chicken broth?" asked Willa.

Beryl shrugged. "Well, I assume it involves chickens." She said, as Rosie walked back up to them.

"The chicken in the ice box is completely frozen. It'll take hours to thaw." She said, placing the frozen chicken on the counter.

"Maybe we can make the soup without the chicken broth." said Willa.

"Without the chicken broth, it's basically vegetables floating in hot water." Beryl sighed.

"Alright, I was hoping I would never have a reason to bring this up, but the other day when I was cleaning Mr. Reaver's room, I heard clucking noises behind his bookshelf." said Rosie.

Barry walked back inside to check on the girls. He noticed they weren't in the kitchen. "Maybe they gave up and decided to get something from the town…or saw a shiny object and chased after it." He sighed, as he closed the front doors. He went into the kitchen to clean up a bit but stopped when he heard clamoring upstairs. It was coming from Reaver's room. He wasn't home yet, so that could only mean one thing. "He will kill them with his bare hands if he finds them in his room." Barry panicked, and ran upstairs.

He stopped short of the hallway when a chicken came running past with three maids chasing it. "Here chickie-chickie!" shouted Willa, as she dove for it.

Beryl tried to block its path but it went between her legs and down the stairs. "What on Earth are you three doing?" shouted Barry.

"Chicken for chicken broth!" shouted Willa. Rosie sprinted past him, holding a frying pan. Barry rubbed his eyes and gave chase as well.

Feathers flying, the chicken gained the attention of Reavie, who had been napping on a chair in the foyer. The chicken stopped when Reavie hopped onto the floor and seemingly beamed an evil kitty grin. The chicken panicked and ran in the opposite direction. Gordon walked inside at this point and saw the chicken fly by him, with three maids and a cat chasing it. Barry rubbed his eyes and grabbed Reavie before she could go outside. "I want no part in this, I'm just going to make sure Miss Sarah is resting and maybe make her something." He said, as he walked away.

"Who knew making vegetable soup would be so stressful?" shouted Beryl, as she and the others chased the chicken around Millfields.

The nobles that lived around the lake only watched in frightened amusement. "Reaver should really keep those miscreants under control." said one noblewoman, as the girls ran past.

They ran along the path of the lake, and didn't see Reaver along the main path, carrying something. "I wonder what all the commotion is down there." He muttered to himself, as he walked along the path. He still had a ways to go before he reached the manor.

"Gotcha!" shouted Willa, holding onto the chicken with dear life. "Alright, let's get back to the manor before Mr. Reaver gets home!" the girls ran back to the manor. Obviously not seeing Reaver on the main path, the girls ran inside and to the kitchen. "Alright, let's make some chicken broth!" shouted Willa, happily. Rosie started up the stove and Beryl put the chicken inside. "Alright, according to the recipe, it should become broth in a few minutes." said Willa, trying to talk over the mad clucking in the pot.

"Should we…have killed it first?" asked Rosie.

"The recipe doesn't say." answered Willa. "Okay, while that's doing that, let's make some bread!" The girls nodded and walked over to the pantry.

Reaver was about to open the front door when he heard an explosion coming from inside. Though he didn't want to, he opened the door slowly and let the smoke billow out. He watched as a blackened chicken dizzily strode by and he slowly walked inside. The girls ran from the kitchen, coughing, covered in soot. Beryl wiped off her glasses and panicked, seeing Reaver standing in front of them. Reaver placed what he was holding down and slowly walked to the three girls.

"Ladies, care to explain why my kitchen has smoke coming out of it?" he said, calmly. The girls shook in their places. Reaver reached for his gun and held his hand over it. "I suggest one of you start explaining before I start shooting, and be grateful that I am giving you the opportunity."

The girls looked at each other and Willa held up her hand. "It's my fault, Mr. Reaver. I enlisted Rosie and Beryl to help me cook since Miss Sarah wasn't feeling well. We didn't quite get the recipe right…"

"OBVIOUSLY!" shouted Reaver. "Well, I will go easy on you all since you admitted responsibility. But, I doubt Miss Sarah wants to see the kitchen in such a state when she starts to feel better. Rosie and Beryl, you two clean the kitchen, top to bottom. And I mean top…" he pointed to the ceiling. "…to bottom." He pointed to the floor. "I want it so clean that Miss Sarah will be able to see her reflection in the floors. Every nook and cranny, even places you wouldn't think of, spic and span. Is that understood?" he said, putting his hand on his hip. Rosie and Beryl nodded. "I will be inspecting it personally when you two are done, and trust me; I am a far more brutal judge than Miss Sarah. I suggest you get started." Rosie and Beryl nodded and ran into the kitchen. "As for you, Willa, since this is all your idea, I have a far more…suitable punishment for you. And Hatch said I'd never find a use for it." laughed Reaver, directing Willa to a nearby closet.

As the evening went on, Barry collected Reaver's dishes from the dinner table. "How is Miss Sarah doing?" asked Reaver, as he sipped his wine.

"I'm happy to report she's doing much better, Sir. I made her some of my mother's old home remedy and she immediately started feeling better. She should be back in the kitchen very soon." said Barry, with a smile. "By the way, Master Reaver, how did you know to bring something home for dinner?" asked Barry, motioning to the empty box on the table next to the big ceramic pot that it once contained.

"When Miss Sarah was making breakfast this morning, I could tell she wasn't feeling well. I'm the one that sent her back to bed and told Rosie to check on her. I decided that when I was done at the factory, I would pick up some soup from a restaurant in the city. Though, in retrospect, I probably should have told the servants that first." laughed Reaver as Barry picked up his dishes. Reaver then stopped Barry. "No, Hatch, you've done quite enough today, taking care of Miss Sarah and all. I'll have someone else pick up the dishes." Reaver looked too happy. "Willa! Come in here!" he shouted, jovially.

Willa, in a chicken outfit adorned with bows, slowly waddled her way into the dining room. Barry covered his mouth, trying to keep his laughter down. "Yes, Mr. Reaver?" asked Willa, softly.

"Take the dishes into the kitchen and tell the others to wash them when they are done cleaning the kitchen." He said, trying not to sputter his laughter.

Willa nodded and to the best of her abilities (in a chicken outfit) took the dishes downstairs. Gordon passed by her with a tray and tried to keep from laughing. He carried the tray (containing a coffee pot and a cup) toward the servant's hallway. "How long does she have to be in that thing?" asked Gordon, in between chuckles.

"Two weeks, with no chance of parole." chuckled Barry.

"It probably doesn't help that she looks horrifically adorable in that thing." laughed Gordon, as he made his way into the servant's hall.

"Given the circumstances, I think I'd rather be cleaning the kitchen top to bottom than be in that thing." said Barry, pouring more wine for Reaver.

"Why do you say that, Hatch?" asked Reaver.

"Well, because eventually they'll be done cleaning the kitchen. That chicken suit looks uncomfortable to be in for more than a few minutes." Reaver nodded in agreement and sipped his wine.

* * *

><p>In his office, Reaver reclined in his chair, looking out the window. The heat wave that had been plaguing Albion the last few weeks had died down and he noticed the leaves on the trees were starting to get crisp. "My, my, it would appear that summer is coming to a close." He muttered to Reavie, who sat on the desk, cleaning herself. "It feels like yesterday I hired my circus rejects. I'm not sure why, but I think they are making me soft." He mused, looking at the cat. Reavie just purred. "Why, you ask? Well, for one, with my previous servants, I would have shot them for something much less than what happened today. Second, I would have never kept you around." He patted Reavie on her head as she mewed. "Of course, you coming here is probably the best thing that happened so far." He said, as he filled his ink pen and opened his journal.<p>

"_Willa is adorable and a wonderful maid, but as far as cooking goes…well, let's just say she will probably never make a good wife in that regard. Her heart was in the right place for wanting to help out Miss Sarah, but her head, sadly, was not. Why on all of glorious Albion would she think she could cook as well as Miss Sarah? I have no idea what goes through that adorable little head of hers, sometimes. I am happy to report that Miss Sarah is feeling much better now. I went to check on her before I came to my office. She made it very clear she didn't need me to check if she had a chest cold."_

Reaver reached for his coffee cup and took a sip. He had taken it from Miss Sarah's room, not knowing what Gordon was thinking giving a sick person coffee.

"_Summer, sadly, is coming to an end in a few short weeks. It has been a long and pretty eventful summer, but something has me looking forward to the fall. Crisp leaves, the cooler air, a brand new wardrobe. Ahh, I do love shopping for different seasons. The only bad part is the servants will need new uniforms for the colder weather. Soon, it will be bye-bye low cut necklines and short skirts and hello long-sleeves and thicker stockings. Oh well, I would rather my help not catch pneumonia. They would be of no use to me, then. Of course, the end of the summer means one glorious thing: The End of Summer Festival! Oh, I cannot wait!"_

Reaver sipped his coffee as he closed his journal. He winced a bit and sniffed it. He couldn't help but take a few more sips.

"Odd, this coffee tastes like tuna fish…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha you guys!<strong>

**So, being in a state of near coma like sickness gave me the idea for this story. Ahh, near death, the best inspiration.**

**Like many of you, I'm sure you all did the "Reaver's Unmentionables" quest in Fable III. Personally, it would have been more fun to actually sneak around the manor instead of just walking in and walking out like you just came home because you forgot something. I still laugh at that quest each time I replay that game. It's disturbing, and sometimes I feel I should be wearing rubber gloves and using a pair of salad tongs to pick up his undies. My friend beside me as I played was like "Shouldn't they be glowing? I figure they'd be partially radioactive." We laughed and laughed and went back to playing.**

**Ahh well.**

**Next Installment: Not gonna lie, this one may take me a while, because I want it to be perfect. Romance at the summer festival, and if you guys have been paying attention, you'll know who's falling in love!**

**As always, I appreciate all reviews and I want to thank you all for your continuing support. Review and be merry, my friends.**

**Tatty-bye for now, my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	20. The Summer Festival Adventure

_Reaver's Servants_

The Summer Festival Adventure

Early afternoon sun shined through the foyer windows and reflected briefly off the floors. It was an indication to all that summer was about to end. The last nights of summer would give heed to a special celebration called "The End of Summer Festival", an annual festival held in Bowerstone. Traveling merchants and loads of tourists from other regions were descending upon Bowerstone Market at that very moment, setting up their booths and running last minute errands.

Opening festivities were to commence in a few hours. As with tradition, the royal family would parade about town and officially open the three day long festival along to music, dancing, eating, and of course the fireworks at the end of the night. Truly, nothing in all of Albion could be considered more romantic than finding the perfect spot and watching the fireworks over Bower Lake (it was safer to do it there than in town, but they could be seen from anywhere in Bowerstone or Millfields).

This, of course, was of no importance to Barry Hatch, who was on a mission.

Barry stood outside the closed doors, his mission clear. Much time and planning had gone into this, and he couldn't mess up now. His target was behind those doors, and he came prepared. Gordon, Rosie, Beryl, and Willa stood behind him, cheering him on but silently hoping their hours of training wouldn't be in vain. Barry straightened up his uniform and cleared his throat. Confidence practically leaked from every pore.

"This is it, Mr. Hatch; zero hour. Training time is over, this is the real deal!" shouted Willa, straightening up one of his sleeves.

Barry nodded as Beryl gave him a cup of cold water. "We've practiced for over a week for this moment, Mr. Hatch. You can do this!" said Beryl, watching Barry take a big gulp of water. Barry sat in a chair, trying to loosen himself up.

Rosie rubbed his shoulders. "Just stay calm. Everything will be alright." She said, calmly.

"Everything is ready. No going back." said Gordon, handing Barry a breath mint. "Remember: remain calm! Stay focused! Don't dilly-dally, go straight to the nitty-gritty! And remember to make eye contact. But not too much, she can smell fear like it's a load of dirty laundry!" he shouted. The servants shoved Barry towards the doorway. It opened, and they shoved him in, shutting it behind him. No escape, now. Barry swallowed hard and sighed. His target was in sight. He quickly swallowed the breath mint and took a deep breath.

_No going back now, Hatch…you can do this!_ He thought as he approached his target. He cleared his throat. "Hello, Miss Sarah…"

"Oh, hello, Mr. Hatch!" said Miss Sarah happily, as she turned around. "If you're hungry, lunch will be ready soon. Mr. Reaver said not to make dinner, seeing as we'll all probably eat at the festival tonight." Miss Sarah went back to her task at the counter.

"Actually, Miss Sarah, that is what I came in to…umm…" Barry trembled as he tried to find the words.

"Yes, Mr. Hatch?" Miss Sarah asked, with a blush.

Swallowing hard, Barry tried to keep calm as Miss Sarah focused on making lunch. His knees went weak and he almost forgot why he was in the kitchen in the first place. Luckily, Barry remembered and continued. "Well, you know the summer festival is happening for the next few days and tonight is opening night…"

Miss Sarah smiled wide. "Yes, I love opening night." She said, turning back to face him again.

"Yes, fireworks and such, it's a lovely sight." Barry tried not to show he was nervous. Barry stared Miss Sarah up and down, and blushed softly. She stood in front of him, arms in front, as if waiting for something. Her smile was warm and welcoming, and her eyes just as much. Her face always had a smile, and it reminded him of a perfect sunny spring day, like the day he met her. While most men just said she was pretty, Barry would argue saying Miss Sarah was the most gorgeous woman in Albion. Barry swallowed hard and almost fainted. "Miss Sarah, there is actually a very good reason why I came into the kitchen. I am just having a bit of trouble finding the words." Barry rambled.

"Oh? Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Hatch?" Miss Sarah asked.

Barry blushed at all the things going through his head right now. "Well, it's not life or death…well; to me it would be….that is to say…" Barry sputtered his words, trying not to trip over himself.

Outside the kitchen doors, the other servants were listening. "I knew he'd mess this up." whispered Willa.

"Have a bit more faith in Mr. Hatch. He's nervous, and our training probably won't help him much." said Gordon, pressing his ear to the door.

"To be fair, I wouldn't really call what we made him do 'training'. All we did today was force him make-out with a pillow for a half hour, and then he sprayed him with a water gun whenever he got a wrong answer." said Beryl.

"Forcing him to make out with the pillow wasn't training; we just thought it'd be funny." Rosie chuckled lightly.

"And it was." giggled Willa.

Turning her head slightly to the left, Miss Sarah continued to smile. Barry cleared his throat and stood straight. "Miss Sarah, would you please accompany me to the opening festivities tonight?" He tried not to sound like he was blurting it out, but it sounded that way anyway. Barry felt Miss Sarah stare at him and he lowered his head. "If you don't want to, I understand, I mean, I didn't get my hopes up or anything…"

"Mr. Hatch?" Miss Sarah chirped.

"I mean, a wonderful woman such as you going anywhere with a hump like me…" Barry rambled.

"Mr. Hatch…"

"All things considered, just me asking you…"

"MR. HATCH!"

Barry looked at Miss Sarah; he had never heard her shout before. Miss Sarah giggled softly as she shushed him with her index finger over his mouth. "Mr. Hatch, please calm down." She giggled softly, taking her finger away. "I would love to go to the opening festivities with you." Miss Sarah giggled softly with a blush. Barry blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

"Oh…you…you will?" he asked, somewhat astonished.

Miss Sarah giggled softly and nodded. "Yes, I would. I was hoping you'd ask me. If not, I was going to ask you." She laughed, softly.

The two stared at each other and chuckled softly. "Well, everyone else said they'd be ready to head into town around sunset. Shall we meet in the foyer around then?" he asked.

"Of course, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah blushed softly as Barry backed towards the doors.

"Alright then, I'd better go make sure all the chores are done. Master Reaver said we aren't to go anywhere until all the chores are done." Barry chuckled nervously as he backed into the counter and then into the door itself. Miss Sarah waved to him as he left. Wiping his brow with his sleeve, Barry looked among the servants. He smiled a goofy smile and gave a thumb's up. The servants congratulated him as they walked with him away from the kitchen. Reaver came down the stairs at that point and looked at them curiously as they celebrated. Reaver walked toward the kitchen as the group dissipated to finish their chores. Reaver straightened his vest and cleared his throat. He looked around and picked a flower off a potted plant nearby and sniffed it.

He opened the doors to the kitchen wide, immediately getting Miss Sarah's attention. "Oh, Mr. Reaver!" she shouted, in surprise.

"Hello, Miss Sarah, I didn't startle you, did I?" Reaver asked, presenting her with the flower. Miss Sarah blushed softly, accepting the flower. "Well, I am sure you heard tonight is opening night, what with the fireworks and all that lovely stuff." Reaver waved his hands about in fake excitement. "Personally, I don't like to go alone." Reaver eyed Miss Sarah up and down.

Miss Saran tried to finish making lunch, but she could almost feel Reaver undressing her with his eyes. "Well, we're all going, Sir. You won't be alone…"

Reaver got closer to Miss Sarah, enough to pin her against the counter. "Actually, Miss Sarah, I was referring to, how do I word this…a date." said Reaver, seductively.

"Really, Mr. Reaver, I assume you could have your pick of anyone…" Miss Sarah freed herself and went to a cabinet to get out some plates.

Reaver laughed and relished in Miss Sarah's obvious attempts to thwart his efforts. "Well, as true as that statement is, I think I would rather enjoy your company tonight, Miss Sarah. The ramblings of just any random woman in town tend to get boring after a while, and I crave intelligent stimuli…of course, that's not the only stimuli I crave." Reaver growled seductively. He placed his gloved hands on her shoulders. He grinned evilly as she turned bright red.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Reaver, but I am already accompanying someone." said Miss Sarah, matter-of-factly. Reaver, not really used to rejection, just stared at Miss Sarah. Reaver hated admitting defeat, and usually he wouldn't, if the chase was interesting. The only reason he tried to get Miss Sarah to go with him was because he thought she'd be an easy target. Or, at least that's what he told himself.

Swallowing his pride, Reaver started to leave the kitchen. "Alright, Miss Sarah, if you say so. Have Hatch bring me my lunch in my office when it's done." He said, nonchalantly as he waved his hand in the air. A short cold feeling of relief shot through Miss Sarah's body.

With a skip in his step and a big, goofy smile, Barry carried the light lunch on a tray to Reaver's office. He was humming a jaunty tune as he opened the office door. "Lunch time, Master Reaver!" he practically sang his greeting and placed the tray on a nearby table to prepare it. Reaver looked up from some factory forms at Barry's little force field of sunshine that no mild insult could pierce (the other servants already tried). "Miss Sarah made cucumber sandwiches. On wheat bread, of course." Barry finished preparing the plate and placed it in front of Reaver.

"Well, Hatch, you seem to be in good spirits. Usually around the time of the Summer Festival, you're in such a depressing state of self-loathing that I can barely stand to look at you." said Reaver, as he put his paperwork away. Barry ignored Reaver's statement and hummed softly as he poured Reaver his tea. Barry placed down a few cloth napkins and went to fetch the tray. "Say, Hatch, you're pretty close to Miss Sarah, right?" asked Reaver, as he tore the crusts off his sandwich.

Barry blushed softly. "Close, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, do you know who Miss Sarah is going with to the opening festivities tonight?" Reaver took a small bite out of his sandwich.

Barry blushed and loosened his collar a bit. "Umm…yes, I do." He said softly.

"Well, don't leave me in suspense, man! Tell me!" Reaver shouted.

"...Me, Sir…" Barry hurriedly took the tray and left the office. Barry shut the door behind him softly.

Reaver wasn't angry. He put down his sandwich and started laughing. The notion of someone like Miss Sarah going anywhere with a guy like Barry Hatch tickled his funny bone. "Miss Sarah is going with Hatch to the opening festivities. I can't wait to see how he messes this up." Reaver sipped his tea and reached for the paper. He usually didn't get a chance to read the newspaper during the day, so it was certainly a welcome treat.

_That evening…_

"The moon looks lovely through the clouds!" shouted Willa, staring out the foyer window. Willa and Beryl were already dressed to go, and were waiting for the others. "Did you see Mr. Hatch earlier? He is so nervous about tonight, he was drinking tea by the gallon!" Willa glanced at Beryl as she continued straightening out her dress. Willa sighed softly and folded her arms. "That minty stuff can't be good for your stomach…but even Mr. Hatch isn't dumb enough to consume so much tea tonight, right?" Willa pondered.

Beryl giggled as she finally got her dress to sit perfectly. "He's just nervous…though, not that tea would help that much."

Reaver, looking as dashing as ever, came down the stairs with an unnerving confidence. "Good evening, Mr. Reaver. You look exceptionally handsome." said the two girls, bowing.

Reaver chuckled softly. "Ahh, you've been rehearsing, good work." He said, picking his cane out of the umbrella holder. "Alright, my doves, I'm sure you all know that our dear Miss Sarah is going to the festival with Mr. Hatch." He said, reaching into his coat pocket. "Gordon and I have a little bet. We're going to see how long it takes for Hatch to mess up tonight." Reaver leaned against the staircase banister and took a piece of paper out of his coat.

"Mr. Reaver, don't you have any faith in Mr. Hatch?" asked Beryl. Reaver just looked at her. Beryl sighed and reached into her pocket. "Ten gold says he messes up before the fireworks." She said, handing him a ten gold piece.

Willa reached into her pocket and pulled out a ten gold piece as well. "Ten gold says he doesn't make it to the first dance." She said, handing him her gold.

Rosie was making her way down the stairs as Reaver was writing down the bets. "You do realize all those bets are against him, right?" she asked.

"Safest bet there is." They all responded in unison.

Rosie shook her head, but still reached into her pocket. "Alright, ten gold says he somehow injures himself tonight."

In his room, Barry fixed himself up in front of the mirror. Reavie mewed softly from her place on his bed. "Well, you would have been able to come with us if you hadn't decided to use Master Reaver's desk as your personal scratching post." said Barry, as he straightened his cuffs. Reavie purred and turned her head a bit. "Nervous? Of course I'm nervous. This is Miss Sarah we're talking about! I want everything to go perfectly." Barry turned to the cat and held his arms out. "How do I look?" he asked. Reavie turned her head and mewed. "I don't look much different? Oh, what do you know, you're a cat!" Barry sighed.

As Barry started to leave, Reavie mewed anxiously. "No, I'm not sneaking you out. You're just going to have to bite the bullet on this one." He said, as he left. He made his way to the stairs and was already nervous. "I should have taken it easy on the tea." He lamented, holding his stomach. Barry made his way downstairs toward the others. He knew something was up, but decided not to dive into it. "Is Miss Sarah not ready yet?" he asked.

"Not yet, she was having trouble picking out an outfit when I went to check on her." said Rosie.

"Alright, everyone, gather round so I can give you your festival masks." said Reaver, handing out masks.

"I love this tradition!" shouted Willa, receiving her mask. Beryl had a bit of trouble putting hers on over her glasses, but soon enough got it straightened out. Rosie put hers on with no trouble. Everyone looked up as Gordon rushed down the stairs.

"She's finally ready. I just went to check on her." He said, as Reaver handed him his mask.

"I think maybe we should go on ahead." suggested Rosie, shooing everyone outside.

"Awww, but I want to see!" whined Reaver, as he and the others went outside.

"We'll meet you and Miss Sarah at the festival, Mr. Hatch. Good luck!" said Gordon, waving as they all left.

Barry waved to them and sighed. "I'm ready, Mr. Hatch." chirped a soft voice behind him. Barry turned around and smiled. Miss Sarah descended the stair case slowly. Her dress was casual, but to Barry, she made even her maid uniform look like a ball gown.

Barry blushed and watched as she descended to him. He offered his arm and she happily took it. "You look radiant tonight, Miss Sarah." He said, as they left.

Upon entering the city, everyone (even Reaver) was in awe of the festival. Everyone wearing masks, Bowerstone looked like a giant masquerade ball. Music played and children laughed as they ran by the group. "We should go on ahead." said Barry, holding onto Miss Sarah's arm.

"Why?" she asked softly.

Barry pointed to a crowd of women running their way. "IT'S REAVER! HE'S ARRIVED!" the crowd of women shouted. Barry gently pulled Miss Sarah out of the way as the stampede came galloping towards them. The others jumped out of the way just as the wave of women stopped at them. "REAVER! COME DANCE WITH US!" they shouted, tugging Reaver in all directions.

"Now, now ladies, there is plenty of Reaver to go around…" Reaver teased, as the girls ushered him away. "Don't wait up for me tonight, Hatch, I might be a bit…busy…" he growled lustfully as the girls pulled him away.

The troupe shook their heads and laughed. "Well, he'll be sore in the morning." laughed Gordon, as everyone looked around. "Alright, so here's the plan: everyone goes off and does their own thing here." said Gordon, looking amongst the troupe. "No fights this year, please." He said, pointing to Willa.

"Hey! I had every right to punch that guy last year!" Willa defended.

"The fireworks begin in about three hours. After everything is said and done, we'll all meet back at the entrance and go back to Millfields and watch the fireworks from the dock. If Mr. Reaver can still walk by then, he'll join us. Sound good?" Everyone nodded as Gordon finished. Barry and Miss Sarah waved as they walked off. "I don't know why, but something says I'm going to lose some gold tonight." Gordon mused, as everyone separated.

Everyone went in different directions, but an unspoken agreement was made between them: Keep an eye on Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah. Rosie followed the two toward the town square, near the clock tower. "What would you like to do first, Miss Sarah?" asked Barry. Miss Sarah held his arm tightly as they walked into the town square. The lively music flowed like a river as the soft summer evening wind bounced the lanterns about.

"Oh, I haven't been dancing in years!" Miss Sarah squealed happily.

Barry smiled and bowed. "May I have this dance, Miss Sarah?" he asked.

Miss Sarah blushed and curtsied. "You may, Mr. Hatch." She said, taking his hand.

Rosie had gotten herself a sweet bun to eat as she watched the dancing commence in the town square. Her mask resting on her forehead, Rosie sighed softly, watching the crowd of people dance around as the music filled the summer evening. She giggled softly watching Barry awkwardly fumble around with Miss Sarah (though she seemed to be enjoying herself) and at Reaver being passed around like a hot potato. "He looks like he's getting dizzy." said a voice behind her bench. Rosie nodded, biting into her sweet bun. "You know, you look like you could use a dance yourself." The voice said, as its owner sat down next to Rosie.

"I don't dance much. It's fun to watch, though." Rosie nibbled on her sweet bun, finally reaching the melon flavored filling.

"You never were much of a dancer." said the voice again. "But at any given moment, you'd stuff yourself silly with melon sweet buns."

"Excuse me?" said Rosie, turning her head. She dropped her sweet bun when the man took off his mask and smiled.

"Hello, Rosie, it's good to see you again." said Ben Finn, extending his arm behind her.

"Mr. Finn! You're in town?" she asked in a shocked manner.

Benn smiled and crept closer to Rosie, who slid further down the bench. "Yep, I never miss a summer festival. Well actually, I have a job in Oakfield and I was passing through, so I decided to stay for a few days." He laughed. Rosie looked around and noticed her sweet bun was on the ground now. Rosie lamented her loss. "Come on, I'll buy you another one." Ben offered his arm to Rosie as they both stood.

Rosie refused. "I'm fine…I shouldn't eat so much sweets, anyway." She said, meandering away. Ben Finn liked a challenge, but he liked Rosie more, so the two combined would be an extra treat for him.

"How about we head over to the pub and talk over some drinks?" he asked, as he followed her.

"I don't drink, you would forget that, wouldn't you?" she retorted, pulling her mask down.

Willa and Beryl were examining a booth when Rosie walked hurriedly behind them. She didn't notice them, but they didn't take offense, as they didn't notice her until Ben passed behind them. "That's a lie, I've seen you drink those clowns under the table!" he shouted, as he passed by.

Willa and Beryl looked up and giggled. "Looks like Rosie's found her entertainment for the night." giggled Willa, as she picked up an item. "So, what did you say this does again?" she asked the vendor.

"It's a special herb that when cooked with any dish, will cause two people to fall in love." said the vendor. "If done correctly, it will be completely tasteless in the meal and make two people fall madly in love with each other. Done wrong, and it will make the dish taste foul, meaning it has failed. A failed dish has dire consequences. So, as the sign on my booth clearly says; buy at your own risk."

Willa grinned stupidly (as if she had a plan). "Sold!" she shouted happily, handing her gold to the vendor. The vendor was nice enough to wrap it up for her and give her the instructions, leaving Willa to wonder how special the herb really was.

"Why did you buy that? Do you have a crush on someone?" asked Beryl.

"No, I bought it for Mr. Hatch." said Willa, matter-of-factly.

"Why?" asked Beryl.

"Because he's Mr. Hatch! We all know he has a crush on Miss Sarah, but he'll never do anything about it. He'll keep fumbling around until it's too late and someone like Mr. Reaver wins her. Without a little help, this festival will be as far as Mr. Hatch goes with Miss Sarah." Willa held up the little package. "We'll just have to give him a leg up."

The girls passed by Barry and Miss Sarah as the dancing stopped. "Oh I haven't had that much fun dancing in years!" giggled Miss Sarah.

"Sorry I stepped on your foot a few times, I'm a bit rusty." said Barry, with a smile.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Hatch. These are old shoes, I just have an excuse to buy new ones now." Her smile was radiant and her eyes lit up brighter than any of the lanterns. The bridge over the river wasn't as teeming with festival goers as the rest of the city, which have Barry and Miss Sarah a chance to rest while glancing over the side.

"So, Miss Sarah, are you enjoying yourself so far?" asked Barry, as he took off his mask.

Miss Sarah nodded with a blush, her mask resting on her forehead. "Oh yes, I haven't had this much fun in years. It's almost as fun as watching hobbes." She smiled.

"Hobbes, Miss Sarah?" asked Barry. Miss Sarah nodded.

"Oh yes, I love studying Hobbes. They are so misunderstood, in my opinion." She said, matter-of-factly. "I believe they get such bad press. All I ever read about them in the paper is 'hobbes attack trader caravan' or 'cave of hobbes raided'; it's so horrible." Barry loved seeing Miss Sarah's eyes light up when talking about her hobbies. It made him feel better to know they shared an interest. Barry offered his arm and they were off once again.

Miss Sarah looked among the vendors and smiled wide. One booth caught Miss Sarah's attention enough to make her let go of Barry and run over to see. The vendor was selling dolls and among them was a small white cat doll holding an even smaller hobbe plushie. "Oh, how adorable!" Miss Sarah shouted.

"I see you're interested in this doll, Miss." said the vendor.

"Well, I'm more interested in the little hobbe its holding." Miss Sarah squealed happily as Barry walked over.

The vendor picked the doll off its little shelf and held it up to Miss Sarah for a closer look. "Well, this little beauty is called 'Hobbe Lover Pussycat' from the widely popular 'Hi-Hi Pussycat' doll collection. It technically hasn't been released yet, but I decided to sell a few tonight in order to get people excited about it. I suggest you buy it tonight because I'm raising the price once it hits the shelves in my store."

The vendor turned away to tend to another customer, leaving Miss Sarah to lament in agony. "Ohhh…it's so cute, but I don't know…" Miss Sarah sighed.

"You collect those things?" asked Barry, pointing to the doll.

"No, but I love Hobbes! They are so adorable! I've read almost every book the bookstore has on Hobbes, and I collect those little hobbe figurines." Miss Sarah sighed and wondered over to another vendor.

Barry made sure she wasn't looking and went up to the vendor and pointed to the doll. "I'll take it."

As Barry walked away with his gift wrapped treasure, Rosie, having finally accepted Ben as her companion for the festivities, walked up to the vendor as she put another doll in its place. Rosie's eyes lit up. "Well, it seems my 'Hobbe Lover Pussycat' doll is all the rage tonight. This is the last one I'm selling tonight, so if I were you, I'd go ahead and snatch it up!" the vendor said, happily.

Rosie excused herself and looked in her coin purse. "I shouldn't have eaten so many sweet buns." She lamented, sadly.

Ben smiled widely and walked up to the vendor just as a masked man did. "How much for the little cat doll with the hobbe?" he asked.

"Hey, I had my eye on it first!" shouted Ben.

"You don't look like the type who collects these." said the man.

Rosie walked up to the two. "Mr. Finn, it's fine…" said Rosie.

"I was about to purchase this doll for my lady friend here." said Ben, between his teeth.

"I think my daughter would appreciate it more than your lady friend, seeing as my daughter is the appropriate age for such things." said the man, calmly.

"Well, I'm sure she'd appreciate the gesture, but that doll is mine!" Ben gritted his teeth and folded his arms.

"Mr. Finn, there is no need for this…" said Rosie, softly.

The man chuckled softly. "Are you sure your lady friend wouldn't prefer a more handsome date? I mean, if you need to buy her a children's doll to make her happy, there much be something really wrong with your relationship with her." The man's laughter didn't offend Rosie, who just wanted to leave. Ben, on the other hand, had heard enough.

Ben cracked his knuckles. "That's it!" Ben pounced on the man and so began a heated fist fight between the two.

Rosie just walked away, happy to finally be alone. She rubbed her arms as the chilly air brought on the town guards to break up the brawl near the toy stand. Rosie meandered toward the carnival games as the sounds of shouting and wood breaking became distant. "Hey, Rosie, how's the festival treating you?" asked Gordon, as he walked up to Rosie.

"Well, I've somehow caused a fist fight, but other than that, pretty well." said Rosie, looking back at a group of guards separating the two fighting men.

"Two grown men fighting over a doll, can you believe that?" Gordon laughed.

Rosie shrugged and walked away with him. "How has your night been?" asked Rosie.

"Well, I won a few things from the game booths." He said, happily holding up a bag. "I won this 'grand prize' as it were at the guess your weight booth. They were way off." laughed Gordon as he took out a doll.

"Is that a Hobbe Lover Pussycat?" asked Rosie, excitedly.

"Yeah, apparently only a few are being sold tonight and the game operator bought this to use as a grand prize. You want it?" asked Gordon.

"More than anything…I mean, if you don't want it…" said Rosie, as Gordon handed her the doll. She took the doll as if being handed a gift by the gods. Gordon didn't pay attention to her fawning over it. "We should probably go find Willa and Beryl and make sure they aren't causing trouble."

Reaver, with his crowd following him, walked up to the booth with the doll. "Oh, how amusing." He said, as he pointed to the doll. "How much for that doll with the hobbe?" he asked, while getting a few weird stares from his groupies. "It's too adorable to pass up, not that I collect such things…" Reaver saved, pulling out some gold.

The man who fought Ben, now brandishing a black eye, walked up to him. "I saw it first…" he said, glaring Reaver down.

Reaver took out his gun and shot the man point blank. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of my gun shooting you in the shoulder; would you mind saying that again?"

Barry hid the little gift in his pocket, deciding he'd give it to Miss Sarah later. "That little hobbe on the doll was so cute! But I'd hate to buy something like that and only enjoy one part of it. But still…!" Miss Sarah giggled and squealed happily as they made their way to the games area. "Carnival games!" she shouted, happily. Miss Sarah ran happily toward the games with Barry trotting behind. "We used to have games like these at the circus. I can say with much confidence I helped unrig all the games when the kingdom's inspectors came." She giggled softly.

"I used to be quite good at the ring toss myself." said Barry.

"Prove it…" said Miss Sarah, with a smile.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked with a grin.

Miss Sarah nodded and placed a gold piece down. "Money where your mouth is, Mr. Hatch." She said, with her own grin. Barry placed his gold piece down and the challenge was on. Five rings each, Barry and Miss Sarah threw rings until they were out. Sadly, not one hit a target. "Again!" they shouted, laying down another gold piece each. After a few minutes of throwing rings and winning nothing, the two laughed and meandered away. "Oh, I haven't laughed that hard in years." said Miss Sarah, as she tried taking deep breaths between laughs. "That made me hungry."

Willa and Beryl watched from an alleyway corner as Barry and Miss Sarah sat at an outdoor café to eat. Beryl read the instructions on the herb. "It says here it can be cooked or drunk. In order for it to be drunk, the herb must be ground up to a fine powder and the same rules apply as if it were being cooked: It will be tasteless if done properly and foul tasting if done wrong." She read, as Willa took a rock and ground up the herb.

"Alright, now we somehow have to get it in both of their drinks." said Willa.

"What if someone sees us do it?" Beryl asked. Willa smiled and whispered into Beryl's ear.

As their drinks arrived, Barry and Miss Sarah heard commotion going on near their table. "Hey, it's Beryl!" said Miss Sarah, pointing to Beryl. Beryl bowed and stood on a crate. Doing a handstand, Beryl arched her back and swung her legs in front of her. Everyone at the café watched and cheered. Beryl lifted herself on one hand and did a split and then hopped onto the other hand. Everyone clapped, giving Willa time to sneak over to Barry and Miss Sarah's table and sneak the herb into their drinks. Beryl was standing on the crate now with her head between her legs when she saw Willa wave to her. Beryl nodded and finished off by doing a front flip off the crate and bowing. Everyone clapped and tossed gold at her as she held up a cup.

Barry and Miss Sarah went back to talking as Willa walked up to Beryl. "Well, we certainly made back to money from buying the herb." said Beryl, shaking the cup. "I think we've earned a couple of sweet buns with melon filling!" Willa and Beryl smiled as Rosie and Gordon walked up to them (carrying sweet buns, no less). "Speaking of which…"

"What are you two up to?" asked Rosie as she and Gordon joined the two girls.

"Helping out Mr. Hatch." said Willa, proudly as Gordon handed the two sweet buns.

"We bought this herb that's supposed to make two people fall in love." Beryl handed the instructions to Rosie, who examined it.

"I don't think this will work on those two." said Rosie. "Well, for one, look at them…" Rosie pointed to the two, who were blushing and laughing at each other's anecdotes. Watching as Barry "accidently" placed his hand on hers and both recoiling nervously like school children, the group chuckled softly.

"They are already in love…" Beryl swooned, placing her hand on her heart.

Rosie looked over the instructions and her eyes widened. "Umm…did you guys read these instructions all the way?" she asked. Willa and Beryl shook their heads. Rosie glared at Willa and Beryl and showed them the fine print at the bottom of the recipe. "It says here at the bottom the reason it will taste foul is because if made incorrectly, it's a poison…"

Willa started to shake nervously and looked over at the two, who were about to start eating. "I'm sure I made it right…" Willa tried to assure herself.

"Willa, no offense, but you're not the best cook." said Beryl. Willa ran screaming towards the two as they lifted their drinks in a toast. Before they could drink, Willa dove onto the table and knocked everything over. As Willa picked herself and the table up, she giggled softly as Barry glared at her. Willa offered him her unopened sweet bun package.

Having finally freed himself from the clutches of his adoring fans, a very drunk Reaver stumbled his way to a bench and sat down. He looked at his pocket watch and sighed happily. "Almost time for the fireworks." He said, happily as he regained his composure. "I should probably go find my circus rejects." He mused, as he stumbled to get up. It didn't take him long to find them, as they were heading his way out of town.

"Well, it was nice of Willa to join us…" reasoned Miss Sarah.

"She didn't have to tackle our food when it arrived. If I wanted to eat sweet buns for dinner, I can do that anytime." Barry sighed.

"Well, sweet buns are good too." giggled Miss Sarah.

"Well, my doves, did you enjoy the festival?" asked Reaver, as he weaved his way to them.

"It seems you had a great deal of fun." chuckled Gordon. Reaver laughed loudly he swung his arm around Gordon's shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Reaver, let's get you home." Gordon held up Reaver as they walked back to Millfields.

With a picnic blanket down and a few bottles of wine, the servants sat with other residents in Millfields, waiting for the fireworks to begin. "Whoooo! Pretty show!" shouted Reaver, waving his bottle of wine around.

"The fireworks haven't started yet, Mr. Reaver…" said Rosie, taking the wine bottle away.

"So, what did you do about your 'Mr. Finn problem'?" asked Gordon, as he poured Rosie some wine.

"Well, I think a night in jail will do him some good. Being a personal friend of the Queen will probably get his charges swept under the rug." Rosie answered, rolling her eyes.

"Are you at least flattered by it? I mean, yes, he did break your heart, but that was years ago. It looks like he wants to make amends." said Gordon. Rosie didn't answer; she just took a big gulp of her wine and silently asked for more.

Miss Sarah and Barry sat close together, sharing a bottle. "I had a lot of fun tonight, Mr. Hatch, thank you." Miss Sarah chirped as he poured their glasses.

"I had fun too, Miss Sarah." said Barry, as they gulped down their wine. They had their own blanket, but they weren't far from the others. "Oh, I got you something, Miss Sarah…" Barry reached into his pocket and pulled out a little gift.

Miss Sarah took the box softly and opened it, revealing the kitty doll from earlier. "Oh, Mr. Hatch, you didn't have to get me a gift. Your company tonight was a gift itself." she squealed, hugging the doll close. Barry sat closer to Miss Sarah as she set the little doll down in its respective box. "I feel so bad; I didn't get you anything while we were out tonight."

Barry took Miss Sarah's hand and kissed it. "Sarah, your smile is the only gift I could ever want or need…" Miss Sarah blushed deeply as their faces slowly came closer together. Their foreheads touched, but the blinding flash of the photo-box stopped them from going any further.

"A perfect picture!" shouted Beryl, happily as everyone joined Miss Sarah and Barry.

Reaver sat himself between the two and put his arms around each of their shoulders. "Your blanket has a better view!" he shouted, still somewhat drunk. The fireworks began illuminating the sky as every resident in Millfields oohed and awed. Beryl took pictures of the fireworks and of the servants celebrating. Barry and Miss Sarah shrugged and leaned back, happy to be amongst friends for such a wonderful occasion. Their fingers slowly made their way towards each other, and soon they were holding hands.

"Wait a second, we all bet against Mr. Hatch, but from I observed everything turned out fine for him tonight." said Willa, staring at the reflection of fireworks on the lake.

"Well, win some, lose some." said Rosie, taking the photo-box and taking a picture of Gordon.

"Well, if we all lost…than who won?" asked Beryl, reaching for her glass of wine.

Gordon pointed to Reaver. "He bet me that Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah would have a good time and I bet against him and we all lost, apparently." He laughed, softly. "We just have no faith in Mr. Hatch." Gordon chuckled.

"Summer is over…no more short uniforms…" Reaver shouted drunkenly as he slunk down onto the blanket. Miss Sarah giggled softly and happily watched the fireworks with Barry.

When the fireworks ended, Barry escorted Miss Sarah back to the manor. "Tonight was lovely. A perfect end, if I do say so myself." Barry chuckled softly. "Lovely evening, despite the…" Barry was interrupted by Miss Sarah kissing him on the cheek. Barry just stood frozen as Miss Sarah walked inside.

Miss Sarah smiled softly and made her way into the house, with Barry still standing there with a cheesy smile on his face. "Good night, Mr. Hatch…"

* * *

><p>With Reaver tucked in and snoring drunkenly, Barry made his way his bedroom. He sighed happily at the evenings events and started taking off his coat. As he entered the room, he felt a small furry presence follow him in. He laughed softly and closed the door. "Hello, Reavie…I hope your evening has been peaceful." He said, picking up the kitten. Reavie looked slightly ruffled and her bow looked like it had been undone in a way that looked like a bandana. "Well, you probably spent the night chasing rats around the kitchen again."<p>

Reavie mewed softly as Barry started getting undressed for bed. He slowly dressed himself and laid down. Before sleeping, Barry reached into his side table drawer and took out his journal.

"_My darling journal, I can't say in words how perfect tonight was. Nothing went wrong, which is new for me! I took Miss Sarah to the summer festival and by the gods, everything was wonderful. Even tonight's end was perfect. She kissed my cheek. I know it isn't the kiss I wanted to give her, but it's a start. Tonight went so well, I think I am going to ask her to dinner next Wednesday. This could go somewhere…"_

Barry put his journal down and sighed happily. Reavie curled up next to him and mewed softly. "Budding romance? I hope so, Reavie…I hope so…"

In her room, Miss Sarah sat on the edge of her bed and sighed softly. She smiled at the doll Barry had bought her, but a sense of dread came over her. She had yet to get dressed for bed, but she was already lying down, staring at the ceiling. She reached under her mattress and pulled out her journal. It was ratty and old, and probably one of the only things she was able to save when she and the others left the circus. She reached for a pen and sighed softly.

"_Tonight was wonderful. I wish I had more words to explain it. Mr. Hatch was a true gentleman; nothing went too fast or too slow, and he is so kind to me. But I must say, diary, I am somewhat apprehensive. I do feel for Mr. Hatch a great deal, but I'm not sure if I am ready for anything serious just yet. Part of me still mourns him…but I know he'd want me to move on and be happy. He may be ready for me to move on, but I'm not sure if I am myself. I don't want to lead Mr. Hatch on…what am I going to do?"_

Miss Sarah closed her journal and laid back on her bed, reclining her feet. She didn't know it, but both she and Barry were thinking the same thing:

"Where does it go from here?"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Luna Peachie here! Oh my, this one is long! In between writing this one and my other one, I think I forgot how hard it was to get back into my old writing niche. <strong>

**To be honest, I find it hard to write serious stories sometimes, which is why I haven't updated my other fan-fic yet. But don't worry; I have some story lines planned out for that one. Oh! I don't want to spoil anything, but in that fic, in a later chapter, the troupe will be making a cameo! Don't worry; I know how to fit them into that story.**

**The next few stories will probably be quickies, as like I said, I find it exhausting to stretch out one funny idea into a long story.**

**Where does it go from here? I lie awake at night during each relationship I've ever had wondering that. In an upcoming chapter, I'm going to dive into Miss Sarah's misgivings about starting a new romance and why, though I have mentioned her deceased fiancé in earlier chapters. I feel I owe it to you guys to spend one chapter getting into the nitty-gritty of the servants. Oh, and before I forget, Reavie will have her own little adventure too. Not saying when, though!**

**Oh, and notice how Barry didn't call her "Miss" Sarah in one of those lines up there? That's important, remember that.**

**Next Installment: Oh, Toto, I don't think we're in Albion anymore…Time to get your nerd on, as the servants find themselves in the demented wonderland of three certain geeks.**

**As always, thank you all for your continued support and I always appreciate your reviews. **

**Tatty-bye for now, my doves!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Ben Finn belong to Lionhead.**


	21. Dunces and Dragons

_Reaver's Servants_

Dunces and Dragons

Lunchtime in Bowerstone Market was probably not the best time to be shopping, but it was the only time the servants had. They were running errands about the city, since Reaver had given everyone the day off (except Barry, sadly) so he could do business at the castle. Willa and Rosie made their way to the bookstore, not knowing of the adventure they were about to have.

"Mr. Reaver said he and Mr. Hatch would be done in an hour, and we promised to meet him and the others for lunch at the café, so let's not spend all day in here again." said Rosie. Willa rolled her eyes. "Alright, but this time, when someone tries to direct me toward the kids section, don't stand there and laugh." said Willa, as the two girls walked in. "I promise nothing." Rosie chuckled, under her breath. The girls nodded their hello to the shop keeper and ignored the three young men standing in front of the comic book stands.

The shopkeeper glared at the three young men as Willa and Rosie went up the stairs to the second floor. "Look, you three have been standing there for hours. Are you going to buy something or not?" asked the obviously annoyed shopkeeper. The three young men were dressed in red cloaks and one was wearing a mask. The one wearing the mask (Mark) closed his comic book and glared at the shopkeeper. "If you keep interrupting us reading to ask us that, then maybe we'll take our business elsewhere." He said, sarcastically. "Good! Then maybe people won't be so afraid to come in here anymore." shouted the shopkeeper. "You have another half hour to buy something or I'm calling a guard!"

Upstairs, Rosie shifted through the philosophy books. "I didn't think you'd be one for philosophy." said Willa, picking up an adventure book. "Well, when Lord Logan stayed with us last season…he said after he became the Queen's head advisor, he did some reading about certain philosophies from other lands. He said it really did him a world of good."

"For a guy that annoys you, you sure did enjoy spending time with Lord Logan." said Willa. "Well, we had a lot in common. His travels seem to be more interesting than ours were though." said Rosie. "That's because he gets to travel for the Queen. We just traveled to entertain idiots." retorted Willa. Shrugging, Rosie placed her book back and went over to the cooking section. "Miss Sarah promised to teach me how to make those crème puffs Mr. Reaver likes. I wonder if Lord Logan likes them too…" Rosie mused as her finger traced along the book spines. "Rosie…did something happen between you and Lord Logan?" asked Willa, as she walked toward the stairs. Rosie blushed and looked away. "Don't be silly…" Rosie hid her blushing face in a random book. "Well, when you're done reading about how to make Auroran delicacies with fungus, I'll be downstairs looking at the comic books." Willa walked downstairs as Rosie fumbled with the book she had. "By the way, that book is upside down."

"No, you're wrong! Akio the Traveler is totally more awesome than Yuudai the Slayer." said the young man with blonde curly hair under his hood (Ben). "Akio the Traveler can barely qualify as an action star. He's a monk that casts spells! Now, Yuudai can kill enemies with one swing of an axe without breaking a sweat!" shouted the one with brown hair (Jim). Mark rubbed his eyes and watched his friends argue. "Come on, you guys, you're going to get us kicked out…again." He said, doubting his friends heard him.

"You're both wrong!" shouted Willa, from behind them. All three stopped to look at her. "Guys, it's a nymph!" said Jim, pointing to Willa. Willa huffed. "Look, it's cute you want to help, Little Miss, but this happens to be an adult conversation, so why don't you just scoot along to the kids section. I hear they have some new Hi-Hi Pussycat books in stock." He cooed, as he bent down and patted Willa on the head. Willa punched Jim in the gut as hard as she could, making him fall over in pain. "As I was saying, both great heroes, but neither compares to Frideswide the Strong!"

With her head in the air, Willa huffed and walked over to the other aisle of comic books. Helping up their friend, Mark and Ben watched as Willa opened a comic book and read to herself. "I think she punched my liver into my kidneys." Jim groaned. The three young men observed Willa from their corner. "She's obviously out of the ordinary." said Ben. "How old do you think she is?" asked Jim. Mark rubbed his chin and examined Willa. "Well, her height suggests a ten-year-old. But the fact that she almost caused you to vomit your own stomach, her strength is that of an adult man, maybe stronger."

Rosie approached the three young men from behind. "Why are you watching my friend?" she asked. Rosie slightly towered over the three young men. "Amazon!" shouted Ben, as he cowered behind Mark. Rosie raised one eyebrow and walked over to Willa. "Those three guys over there were staring at you." She said, as she approached Willa. "They call themselves nerds? They wouldn't know good comic books if someone beat them upside the head with one." said Willa, not even glancing at the three young men. The three young men observed the girls as they talked. "The tall one has a magical aura about her. Sinister, yet I can feel some good coming from her." said Ben. "Do you think the others will take to them well?" asked Mark. "Well, they had better. It took a lot to get the Magicka Orb back from the Queen, so it has to work."

Walking up to the counter with their books, Willa and Rosie couldn't help but feel they were being watched. "Alright, some comic books for the little miss…" said the shopkeeper, making Willa huff. "And some cook books and the official 'Hi-Hi Pussycat Collector's Guide'…" Rosie shushed the shopkeeper as she blushed. "Please, just ring us up." Rosie begged, as the shopkeeper wrapped up their purchases. After paying the shopkeeper, Willa and Rosie made their way out with their purchases.

Mark, Jim, and Ben watched the two girls leave. "Ahh, a tough Amazon with a soft spot and a young barbarian type. They are perfect." schemed Mark, as he and his friends watched from a window. Jim nodded as the three made their way to the counter with their books of choice. "We already have the white mage, the rogue, the paladin, and even the bard. Those two will be perfect for the barbarian and the black mage. All we'll be missing now is the Princess…"

Rosie smiled a she unwrapped the big pink collectors guide she bought. Willa smiled at her comic books. "Aren't you a little too old to read comic books?" asked Rosie, as they stopped in the town square. "Aren't you a little too old to be collecting dolls?" retorted Willa. Rosie blushed and attempted to change the subject. "Well, we have a little time to kill before everyone meets at the café." said Rosie, looking up at the clock tower. "What do you want to do now?"

The three young men approached the two, cautiously. "Hello, ladies…fine day, isn't it?" asked Mark, as they approached. "What do you three want?" asked Willa, holding her purchases tightly. "We would like to apologize for our friend's statement back in the bookstore. It was ungentlemanly of him…right, Jim?" said Ben, nudging Jim in the side. "Oww, I'm still in pain from the punch…but yes, I'm sorry, Miss." said Jim. Willa and Rosie looked at the three. "Alright, apology accepted. I guess I shouldn't have punched you so hard." said Willa. "I don't have much control over my strength when I'm mad." Willa rubbed her knuckles a bit. "That is actually what we wanted to talk to you about. How is a girl like you so strong?"

Willa smiled proudly and held her head up. "Well, if you must know, my father was a strong man in the circus. He was training me before it shut down. He often used to joke that I got my looks from mom but my strength from him." Willa giggled softly. "How old are you, Miss?" asked Jim. "Well, for one, stop calling me 'Miss'. My name is Willa and I'm nineteen." Willa corrected as she folded her arms. "Well, Willa…would you and your friend…" Mark gestured to Rosie, who just stood there. "Rosie…my name is Rosie…" said Rosie, stoically. "…Rosie, like to join us for a game? Think of it as an apology game."

"What kind of game?" asked Willa. "Well, it's nothing threatening…a game of Hollows and Hobbes." said Jim. "Hollows and Hobbes?" asked Rosie. "Trust me, you two will love it." said the enthusiastic Ben. Willa looked up at Rosie, who only shrugged. "Well, we do have some time before we meet our friends, I guess it can't hurt." The three young men smiled wide. "Wonderful…please follow us and we can get you properly attired." said Mark, as the girls followed them.

"So, do you guys have names or do you just prefer to be called weirdoes?" asked Rosie. The group stopped short of a side street and the three young men faced the girls. "If you must know, we are three magi on a special quest. I am Madron of a Thousand Faces." said Mark, gesturing to himself. "This is Ka'liv, Lord of the Fairies." He pointed to Ben, who waved softly. "And this is…"

"We meant _real_ names." Willa interrupted, looking somewhat aggravated. "Alright, I'm Mark, that's Ben, and he's Jim." Mark sighed, as they continued walking. Eventually reaching a house at the edge of the Marketplace, Willa and Rosie looked at each other, not sure what they had gotten themselves into. "Enter, fair maidens, and welcome to our palace of adventure!" A regular two story home, the "Palace of Adventure" had little landscape models on shelves and a vast table top scene on the table near the window. "Can I interest you maidens in light refreshments before we get started?" asked Ben. "No, we're fine." said Rosie. "Just put your parcels by the door, and we'll begin shortly." said Mark, gesturing to the table next to the doorway. The girls placed down their things and followed Mark.

Reaching into an old dusty chest, Mark took out two outfits for Rosie and Willa. "Put these on. Being in character is important." He said, handing them the outfits. "You, Willa, will be the barbarian: a strong warrior with a sense of honor as big as her heart." said Mark, bestowing the costume to Willa. "And you, Rosie, will be the black mage: though ruled by the dark arts, a pure spirit lies deep within." Rosie took the costume and raised an eyebrow. Shrugging, Rosie and Willa left the room to change. "You guys get the table ready. I'm going to fetch our princess." said Mark, as he left the house.

After a little while, Willa and Rosie emerged from the other room, dressed in their costumes. "So, why do I look like I'm wearing a rug?" asked Willa, putting on the helmet that came with her costume. "Technically, it's a goblin outfit, but it'll have to do since the barbarian outfit is too big." said Jim. Willa glared at him as Rosie tugged at her robes, specifically around the bust. "It's a bit snug." said Rosie. "Well, we're not accustomed to playing with women as buxom as you, Miss…or women in general." chuckled Ben, handing Rosie a tan colored hat. Trying to look surprised, Willa and Rosie followed the "magi" to the table top scene.

The lights dimmed and Mark appeared with a green glowing ball. "Alright, ladies…hold on to this, and the game shall begin." Willa looked at Rosie with a look of anxiety. The two slowly grabbed the orb and watched it glow as Mark mumbled a little chant. Suddenly, the two got an odd shrinking feeling and then everything went dark.

_In a forested area, outside a small village_

"Oww, me head…" said Rosie, as she awoke. Willa was lying beside her, still out cold. "I swear, if those guys did things to us and left us in the middle of nowhere…" Rosie grumbled, as she stood. She noted the ground felt odd under her feet, as if not made of dirt or rock, but of a weird kind of cardboard. Looking around, she also noted the bushes nearby looked like they were made of plastic. She tried to take a leaf off the bush, but it snapped back like a rubber band. "Okay…" Rosie slowly walked back to Willa, who was just awakening. "Wha…oh, did those guys knock us out and leave us somewhere?" she asked, as she regained her composure and stood up. "Willa, something about this place isn't…natural." said Rosie.

Willa bent down and tried to pick up some dirt. "This road is painted…" she said, picking up a rock. "This rock doesn't feel…well, rocky." Willa tossed the rock against a nearby tree. It made a hollow thunk. "Rosie, where in Albion are we?" Willa asked, somewhat scared. "I don't think we're in Albion anymore…" muttered Rosie. "In fact, this whole place looks like some sort of play set."

"_Finally awake from their rest, the newest adventurers ponder their surroundings before pressing on."_ said an overhead voice. Willa hid behind Rosie. "Who is that? Where are we?" yelled Rosie. _"You are in the Elfwood Forest just outside of the sleepy hamlet of…what is the name of the village?"_ asked the big voice. _"I think it's Havenshire."_ said another voice. _"Alright, we'll go with that. The barbarian and the black mage get their bearings straight before pressing on to the sleepy hamlet of Havenshire."_

Rosie squinted and tried her hardest to see through the cotton ball clouds. Her eyes widened when she saw Mark, Jim, and Ben through the clouds. "Willa…I think we're in their game." said Rosie. Willa squinted and her eyes widened too. _"Can we get on with this?"_ asked Jim. Willa and Rosie looked at each other and then to the path. "I guess we have to walk." said Rosie. Without much else said, Willa and Rosie started walking down the path, which apparently led to the village of Havenshire.

"_Upon entering the gate, the two spy the rest of their party awaiting them by the fountain in the center of town."_ said Mark. Willa looked over and pointed. "Hey Rosie, look!" she shouted, pointing to the group of people sitting around the fountain. Looking up, Reaver (the rogue) smiled, as if knowing they would come. "Well, I admit, this isn't much of a surprise." He said, as he walked to the girls. "Mr. Reaver, what are you doing here?" asked Willa, as she and Rosie approached. "Well, Hatch and I were on our way back from the castle when those three young fellows convinced us to join in their game, saying others would come." Reaver pointed to the others sitting around the fountain. Beryl (the white mage) cantered her way over in her white robe with red trim. "Hey you guys!" she said, fumbling around with her staff. "How come she gets a staff?" Rosie asked, looking up at the sky. "That's not really important right now, is it?" asked Gordon (the bard), as he walked up. Barry (the paladin) stayed where he was. "Well, since you two are here, where is Miss Sarah?" he asked.

"She's not with you guys?" asked Rosie. "Well, obviously not. Maybe she was lucky enough not to get sucked into this sanity-crushing boredom." snapped Reaver. _"Ohhh, they already know each other! That should make things more interesting. Friendship between characters is essential in proper team building."_ said Ben, his voice sounding like it was being carried by the wind. "Umm, hello, omnipotent weirdoes that conned us into this game, can we get this going? We've been waiting for quite a while for two others. Well, they are here…" shouted Reaver.

"_Our thief is an impatient one."_ said Mark. _"Well, that's good; thieves are impatient…"_ retorted Ben. _"Will you two shut up? Let's get this show on the road."_ shouted Jim. "_Fine, whatever; Ahem…"_ Mark cleared his throat and began the story. "_Our valiant party, having met in their usual meeting point, stand around the bard, who has their mission assignment from their unseen master of dungeons."_ Everyone immediately looked at Gordon, who was obviously dressed as a bard. "Why in the hell are you all looking at me? I don't have anything on me about a damn mission." Gordon shouted. Gordon then felt a small balled up piece of paper hit him on the head. _"There, now stop complaining."_ said Jim. He bent down to pick it off the ground. Opening it, he read the note aloud:

"_Dear Brave Adventurers, your aide is required!_

_Our ruler, the kind and beautiful Princess Honey, has been kidnapped by the evil Hobbe King!_

_He plans to marry her, steal her powers, and take the kingdom for his own evil purposes!_

_It is up to you to rescue her before the entire kingdom falls into darkness._

_Rewards for this quest: +100 exp., and a Spell Scroll of Invisibility +10_

_Good Luck, Brave Heroes; the Princess's life is in your hands._

_~Master of Dungeons"_

"This has got to be the stupidest…" Gordon walked back to the fountain and mumbled a few expletives. "A girl named Honey…sounds delicious in more ways than one." said Reaver, lustfully. "Well, it sounds like she needs saving, so…I guess we need to save Princess Honey." said Beryl. _"Finally, let's get this adventure going._" said Jim, as the group started walking into town. The group walked into town and found mostly cardboard cut-outs of people, which they assumed would be villagers. _"The group splits up to search the town for clues about Princess Honey's whereabouts."_ said Mark.

"_The two mages wonder to the alchemist's shop, hoping for some information."_

Rosie and Beryl stared at the cardboard cut-out of a man wearing a robe. Shrugging, Rosie tapped the "alchemist" on the shoulder. "Ummm…excuse me, would you happen to have any information on the whereabouts of the ones who took Princess Honey?" asked Rosie, not sure what she was doing. _"Ahh, yes, fair maidens of magic! I have the information you seek, but first I require some assistance in a potion. Then, I shall grant you what you seek."_ said Jim, in a grumbly voice. "What kind of assistance?" asked Beryl. Rosie just glared at Beryl, who shrugged. "Might as well play along." She reasoned. _"I require one small bag of powdered eucalyptus leaves so I may finish this potion of life."_ Jim's voice began to crack imitating the alchemist.

"_As the mages go to a nearby shop to see if they sell what is needed, the rogue and paladin find the blacksmith."_

Reaver rubbed his forehead with two fingers and walked up to the cardboard cut-out. "Alright, Mr. Cardboard Blacksmith, give me the information we need so we can leave this place." Reaver demanded. _"Hello, brave travelers! I am Clem the Blacksmith! Bring me some…"_ the cardboard blacksmith was interrupted by Reaver shooting his gun. Barry tried not to laugh as the cardboard head flew off. _"Why would you do that? Do you know how hard it is to find a blacksmith for this edition of Hollows and Hobbes?"_ whined Ben. "Obviously not or else I probably would have shot him sooner. Now, did that blacksmith have anything useful to say or not?" asked Reaver. It went quiet for a second. _"Well, not just yet, he was just going to say ask the milkmaid."_ said Mark. "Then we've wasted enough time here. Let's go find the others, Hatch."

"_The adventurers regroup in the center of town, feeling somewhat hopeless."_

"This whole game is hopeless. I say we ignore them." said Willa, as everyone sit around the fountain in the town square. "Well, I doubt they are going to let us leave until we find the cardboard princess. So, the sooner we find the plot, the sooner we leave." Rosie reasoned, sitting on a nearby foam rock. "Well, I doubt any of the 'townspeople' have anything useful to say." said Barry, leaning against a plastic tree. "I'm just glad Miss Sarah was lucky enough to avoid these three loonies."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "I bet she's sitting in the café, worried sick about us." said Gordon, drawing lines in the sand with a stick. _"Mark, they aren't doing anything."_ said Ben. _"There's nothing in the handbook about characters that won't do anything."_ said Jim. _"Well, they were supposed to reconvene and discuss their next course of action. While they were doing that, the blacksmith was supposed to overhear them and tell them about the abandoned farm outside of town. But the thief blew off his head."_ said Mark. _"Abandoned farm? I thought we were going with the peaceful meadow with the moon fairies."_ whined Ben.

Reaver stood and dusted himself off. "You heard the freaks, let's go find us an abandoned farm." The servants got up and followed Reaver. _"Other way, brave adventurers."_ said Mark. Reaver and the others turned around and started walking toward an iron gate

Outside of town, the group found a peaceful field made of fake wheat. _"Ben, did you replace the desolate field with a healthy wheat field?"_ asked Jim. _"Yes, I think the desolate, rocky field is too cliché. The quiet unassuming wheat field is more eerie."_ said Ben, as the group watched a bunny bound after a butterfly. _"Then what's with the bunnies and butterflies?"_ shouted Jim. _"That's…actually my fault. When I got the orb back, I wanted to make sure it still worked, so I tested it on some wildlife when I was visiting my parent's farm the other day."_ Mark commented. _"But why are they on the board?"_ asked Jim. _"Where else was I supposed to put them?"_ Mark's answer was met by an exasperated moan from Jim. _"Oh, if you guys see a brown dog with black spots, please let me know. My parents want their sheep dog back."_

The group made their way along the dirt path to an abandoned looking farm house. Inside, they found a group of hobbes sitting around, eating the plastic surroundings. "Hobbes?" the group shouted. "Are they real?" asked Beryl, as she hid behind Gordon. "They look real." said Barry, getting a slightly closer look. The ugly little hobbes looked over at the group and started shouting. The group backed up as the hobbes got closer. "Now what do we do?" asked Willa. "Well, this is an adventure game…I say we fight them." said Reaver, brandishing his gun and an evil grin.

"_Charging head on, the adventurers attack the hobbes, hoping to find any clues to the Hobbe King's whereabouts."_

The servants charged forward, using anything they could as a weapon. After the group beat the hobbes senseless, one of the hobbes dropped a piece of paper. "Well, that's convenient." said Reaver, wiping the blood off his gun. Reaver picked it up and unfolded it. "It appears to be a map of some kind; granted, dripping with hobbe blood, but still a map none the less." said Barry, putting his weapon away. _"That went by a lot faster than I had hoped. Maybe the Hobbe King will be more of a challenge." _said Jim.

"_Our brave adventurers stumble upon a map to the evil Hobbe King's lair."_

"Thank you, Sir Obvious!" shouted Willa. _"Don't get snippy, little barbarian."_ warned Jim. "_Oh, they're getting close to the good part. I can't wait."_ said Mark. _"Don't go too fast! It diminishes the excitement!" _whined Ben. _"Fast paced gameplay can be good, depending on the game being played."_ said Jim. The group looked at the map, which were mostly scribbles in red crayon. "Well, this is idiotic. I demand one of you tell us where our destination is." Reaver shouted into the air. _"It's not much of an adventure if we keep telling you what to do."_ said Jim. Rolling his eyes, Reaver examined the map. "According to this, I think we go into the ominous looking forest." He said, pointing to the forest behind the farm.

"_Back on track, our heroes venture into the Forgotten Wood, following the map and the sounds of hobbe celebration."_

The group entered the plastic forest, not really sure of what other idiocies they would find. "I hear music." said Beryl, clutching her staff close. The sounds of drums beating wildly could be heard coming from a nearby glen. In haste, the group (in a desperate hope that the game would soon end) ran after the music.

"_Our heroes come across the celebration of the unwanted engagement of Princess Honey and the Hobbe King."_

On a low cliff overlooking the glade, the group saw a figure dressed in a pretty white dress with a tiara on. Their jaws dropped. One hobbe looked over from preparing the feast and growled loudly enough for the others to hear. The music stopped as the group came forward. "You…can't be serious..." Reaver complained, as his right eye twitched. The hobbe tribe stood there, and stared the group down. Their king, a much bigger hobbe wearing tattered regal clothes and holding a magic staff, shouted almost audible sentences to his tribe. "Well, I can honestly say I didn't expect this…" said Gordon.

Tied to a post on the cliff near the Hobbe King was Miss Sarah, in a flowing white dress and a tiara on. "Oh, hello you guys!" she shouted happily. "Miss Sarah, they tricked you into playing too?" shouted Barry, coming to the front of the crowd. "Tricked me? Oh no, I love playing Hollows and Hobbes! They saw me looking at one of the newest editions at the hobby shop a few weeks ago and asked if I would like to join their group, since they were short a few players. I didn't have a group of my own and they needed a princess, so I thought why not?" Miss Sarah put on her sunniest smile.

"_Miss Sarah, we've been over this; you're a kidnapped princess. You can't exactly be smiling if you're about to be drained of all your powers and unwillingly married to an evil hobbe." _Jim scolded. _"Though, not particularly in that order, of course."_ Ben added. "Oh…right…sorry." Miss Sarah cleared her throat. "Oh, brave adventurers! Please save me! I don't want to marry the evil Hobbe King!" Miss Sarah was a surprisingly good actress. The hobbes started forming a circle around the adventurers. "One of you must fight me. If you win, you will be the new king, and the Princess will be free!" shouted the Hobbe King, in a grumbly yet still audible voice. "Choose your champion, and we shall do battle!"

As if thinking as a collective, everyone shoved Barry into the center of the circle. "Good luck, Hatch, we'll be rooting for you!" shouted Reaver, as he and the group hid behind some rocks. "What happened to teamwork?" Barry shouted. "We decided, as a team, that you should fight the Hobbe King!" Beryl shouted, from behind their rock hiding place. Barry took out his rather large dagger and tried not to show how scared he was. "Okay, Hatch…he may be the biggest hobbe, but he's still a hobbe…" he told himself, as the Hobbe King jumped down from his throne. With a monstrous roar and an odd glow from the sky (Mark, Jim, and Ben were using the orb again) the hobbe turned into a dragon.

"Of course…" said Barry, as he raised his sword. The dragon chased Barry around the glade, shooting fire and roaring ferociously. The group watched at Barry ran around like a crazed chicken. "This is depressing." said Gordon. "Be careful, Mr. Hatch!" shouted Miss Sarah, from her post. "I mean…be careful, brave champion!" Barry looked up briefly at Miss Sarah, and realized he couldn't make a fool out of himself in front of her. He dodged the dragon's swinging tail with accidental ease slashed at it. The dragon, of course, grabbed Barry and roared at him. Before he could eat Barry, a single gunshot pierced the beast's hand, making him drop Barry.

"Try not to embarrass me out there, Hatch!" shouted Reaver, as he and the troupe charged the monster. Miss Sarah wiggled happily in her confinement. "How exciting...I mean, oh brave warriors! Do be careful!" she shouted as she calmed her wiggling down. "It has to have a weak point! Find it while we distract it!" shouted Gordon, taking out his lute weapon. The troupe rushed the dragon, swinging their respective weapons, only to get pushed to the side by its giant claws. Willa jumped on its neck and attempted to wrestle it down. Rosie sat on a nearby rock and started to concentrate. "Now is hardly the time to take a break, Rosie!" shouted Reaver, as the dragon grabbed him by his leg and flung him into a bush.

Beryl had to bend almost all the way back to keep from getting hit by the dragons swinging tail. Gordon leaped away from its swinging arms with ease. "Beryl! I got an idea!" he shouted. Beryl nodded as she did a split to avoid the dragon's tail again. "We have to keep it from breathing fire!" Gordon got a running start and leap frogged off Beryl's shoulders, grabbing the dragon by its muzzle. "Rosie, what the hell are you doing?" he shouted, kicking the dragon a few times in its chin.

Rosie's eyes forced themselves open and started to glow. "Mr. Hatch! The heart shaped patch of scales on its back! Plunge your sword into it!" she shouted, coming from her trance. Barry, running along the dragon's tail and up to his back, plunged his sword into the dragon's heart patch. It roared in agony and exploded into glittery dust, along with the other hobbes around. _"May the bards of the land compose symphonies in honor of our great adventurers!" _shouted Ben. _"That was actually pretty cool!" _shouted Jim, happily.

"_Our brave adventurers, having slain the beast, follow their champion and free the princess."_

Scaling the low cliff, the group ran up to Miss Sarah and let Barry untie her. He slowly helped her down, both blushing as he held her waist gently. "That was terrific! You all were marvelous!" said Miss Sarah, clapping happily with a smile. _"And now, Princess Honey calls forth the heroes, and give them their prize, of 100 exp. and the Invisibility scroll."_ said Mark. _"But she has a special reward for the champion who slayed the dragon. A kiss, as well as her hand in marriage."_ Ben swooned. Barry and Miss Sarah blushed, not realizing Barry was still holding onto her waist. _"Let's not turn this into a love story."_ complained Jim.

"_Their adventure over, the brave heroes and the Princess leave the glade, onto their next adventure!"_

A bright light started shining and the next thing the group knew, they were back in the house, in front of the three young men, who were cheering for them. After getting dressed, the group was again met by cheers from the three young men. "You guys have to be some of the best adventurers yet!" said Mark, with Ben jumping happily behind him. "It was great; could have been better." said Jim.

Willa walked up to Jim and punched him in the stomach again. "That was horrible…" she muttered, as she and the others left the house. "If I see you on the street, I can't guarantee I won't kill you." said Reaver. "Last time I talk to anyone wearing a red cloak and a mask." muttered Gordon. "Today has been a waste of a day off." said Beryl, with Rosie nodding. Rosie picked up her and Willa's earlier purchases from their place by the door.

Barry and Miss Sarah left the house as Mark and Ben went to help up Jim, who was collapsed on the floor, holding his stomach. "Same time next Wednesday, you guys?" asked Miss Sarah. "Of course, Miss Sarah, and remember, it's your turn to bring the snacks!" shouted Mark, waving good-bye. "I think my stomach imploded…" whined Jim, as Ben helped him upstairs.

Walking side by side, Barry and Miss Sarah blushed and laughed as they made their way home.

* * *

><p>Reaver flicked an oddly shaped dice piece across his desk, which Reavie chased after happily. "Well, Reavie, I must say I am jealous of you. You spent all day here while me and the circus rejects were trapped in a magical board game." Reaver muttered. Reavie looked at him curiously as he took out his journal. "Don't look at me like that, I'm telling the truth!" he shouted, as he filled his pen with ink.<p>

"_With my business at the castle done, Hatch and I were talked into partaking in quite an odd game this afternoon. What I assumed would be an afternoon of watching scantily clad people sit about a room talking nonsense turned into quite an adventure. Plastic trees, cardboard townspeople, and high adventure! I must say, and I don't want this repeated to anyone, I actually enjoyed myself. Reminded me of the time I gallivanted around with Sparrow all those years ago. Maybe I was too quick to judge those young men._

_Something in Hatch's eyes twinkled when he helped Miss Sarah off the post she was tied to…is something going on between them? Hmm, I wonder…it's no secret Hatch has a crush on Miss Sarah, and I often suspected she had the same feelings for him. But something tells me it could unwind this demented little family we've become. Personally, I am not one to disrupt love, unless it benefits me somehow, and of all people I don't want moping around my home like a heartbroken teenager, it's Barry. I shall be keeping a close eye on this juicy little development…"_

Reaver closed his journal and looked at Reavie, who gave him a disapproving look. "Don't give me that look, cat!" Reaver got up and left the office. He walked toward the dining room, where he found Barry and Miss Sarah, sitting at the end of the table. She was showing him pieces of a Hollows and Hobbes game. He looked curiously at the pieces and bits of paper. Reaver watched from a corner as Miss Sarah put her hand on Barry's, instructing him to do something. He watched them blush and giggle, just enjoying each other's company. Reaver frowned and left the doorway, without a word.

"I will have to keep an eye on those two…the day when Hatch beats me to a conquest is a cold day in the Underworld indeed!"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, N'cha, N'cha you guys!<strong>

**Well, as you may have noticed if you lurk around my stories (I love my stalkers lol) I have been doing a bit of spring cleaning on each of the chapters. For example, in the Tea Time story, I changed King Sparrow to Queen Sparrow (I didn't realize I made that mistake until I was reading my own stories haha). But, I am a literary perfectionist, so it irked me until I changed it Haha.**

**Well, as I have said before, my belief is that if a writer is not satisfied, the reader won't be satisfied, so I deleted the original chapter twenty one. It is now floating around in my oblivion of a recycle bin, never to see the light of day again. It never happened…*backs away slowly* never happened…**

**To those wondering about the last line, no, Reaver isn't in love with Miss Sarah. He's more of a conquest kind of person. Of course, Reaver is a complex character; you're never quite sure what's going on in that perfectly groomed head of his haha. He might have some kind of feeling for her, but as far as I write, it probably won't go farther than wanting bragging rights. Of course, he respects Barry more than he's willing to admit, so maybe it's the growing relationship between Barry and Miss Sarah that he's jealous of…who knows, I haven't planned that far ahead.**

**Well, I'd like to apologize for this taking so long, a lot of crazy things happened these last few days that kept me from writing. For the most part, everything is fine now. OH! Have you guys checked out my newest fic yet? It's in the mature section here in the Fable area, so you don't have to go far haha. It's called "A Maid's Story" and while I don't really plan for it to intertwine with this story in anyway, who knows. It's more serious and graphic but I won't be updating it as much as I have mentioned before, serious stories…not my thing. But go check it out and tell me how you feel about it.**

**Bad news about my BioShock fic…I don't think I'll be continuing it anytime soon. Inspiration for that…well, it's gone. I might delete it and work on it in my spare time, but as of now, I won't be continuing it anytime soon. Sorry, you guys. I hope, if I do redo it, I can add some things. Oh, pick up the BioShock novel. I promise you, you'll love it. I read it; oh man…I just HAD to play BioShock again after I finished it. Which was at like one in the morning so haha…**

**Next Installment: Reaver needs to test out some new products for his company. Guess who the lab rats are…cake and grief counseling will be available at the end of the testing period lol.**

**As always, thank you for your patience with my insanity and your loyalty. I seem to be getting a cute little fan base for this story and that makes my heart happy hehe.**

**Review and be merry, my friends. Tatty-bye until next time!**

**Reaver, Barry Hatch, and (of course) Mark, Jim, and Ben belong to Lionhead.**


	22. Side Effects Include

_Reaver's Servants_

Side Effects Include…

Reaver watched as the deliverymen piled box after box in front of his doorstep. The crates seemed to pile up as Reaver crossed his arms with a disapproving look. "One group of peasants dies from severe blood loss and all of a sudden everyone panics. They knew the risks involved when they signed the contracts." He mumbled, as the delivery man held up a clipboard for Reaver to sign.

"Probably for the best, Mr. Reaver; I don't think the world is ready for an automatic back scratching machine just yet." said the delivery man, trying not to sound sarcastic.

"You're probably right. But still, after that little fiasco, no one will sign up for product testing at my factories." said Reaver, as he signed the clipboard. After one of the machines went haywire, Reaver was not only left with a factory floor full of dismembered workers, but little to no "volunteers" to test his products. It didn't help much that the Queen banned him from using human test subjects around the factories until the mess was cleaned up.

"It'll be a while before the Queen lifts your ban. How will you test these new tonics?" asked the deliveryman.

Reaver rubbed his chin and looked around his property. "Oh, Reaver Industries always finds a way, my boy." said Reaver, as the deliveryman and his crew left. Reaver walked inside and looked around. He turned his head a few times and watched the servants go about their chores. Reaver's eyes widened and he grinned evilly. "We always find a way…"

That evening, Reaver called all his servants to the dining room and told them to sit down. "Good news, my doves! You all get to help me better Albion!" he said, wearing a lab coat with his goggles over his eyes. Looking like a true mad scientist, Reaver passed out the red bottles to each servant. "The boys in research and development call this tonic 'Cure-All'. It's supposed to…well, the name says it all."

Miss Sarah took the cap off her bottle and sniffed it. "Why does it smell like liquor?" she asked softly.

"The original smell made people gag, something about smelling like chicken blood and fear. So, we added liquor to the mix to make people more comfortable." said Reaver, in a matter-of-fact manner.

"What does fear smell like?" Willa whispered to Beryl, who just shrugged.

"Alright, each of you has a 'cure-all'. So, run along and get your chores done. I will be around to observe you shortly." Reaver picked up his clipboard and pen and walked away. The servants shrugged and picked up their respective bottles. Each servant grabbed their bottle and slowly sipped their drinks.

Barry cringed and gasped loudly as he covered his mouth. "Oh, that tastes awful…" he gasped. Miss Sarah wiped her mouth off on her apron as she stood up, cringing along with the other servants. Reaver watched the servants disperse. Deciding to watch from a good distance, Reaver took out his trusty pen and sat on the top stair, where he assumed he could safely watch the show.

Willa took a few more sips and started dusting the piano in the foyer. "You know, once you get past the taste of chicken and liquor, it's not half bad." She said, to herself. "What do you think?" she looked down at Reavie, who had made herself comfortable on the piano bench.

"_It doesn't matter what I think, just follow the sound of the pixies."_ said Reavie, as the room started to swirl into a whirlwind of colors.

Willa's eyes widened and she looked around. The walls looked like they were melting and she just stood there. "Hey, Reavie…why is the house melting?" she asked.

"_That's a silly question. Why not ask the oven? He's pretty smart."_ said Reavie.

Reaver watched as Willa picked up Reavie and held her in front of her. Willa looked as if she was in a trance. Reaver walked up to her and waved his hand in front of her face. "Willa?" he nudged Willa, only making her loosen her grip on the cat, making Reavie plop down on the floor.

"You're right, Reavie…the house must be…'cleaned'…" said Willa, not blinking. Reaver poked her with his index finger. She didn't move. He picked up his clipboard and started writing.

Reaver left Willa and went to find Rosie, who was supposed to be helping Beryl clean up the study. He didn't find her there. He did, however, find her hunched over a vase with her head inside of it. "Rosie, what are you doing to my valuable vase?" Reaver asked, tapping his clipboard.

Rosie lifted her head up and wiped her mouth. "I'm sorry, Mr. Reaver…I'll clean it…as soon as I'm done." She whimpered. Before Reaver could ask, Rosie made a funny face stuck her head inside the vase. Reaver heard very horrible sounds coming from inside.

Rosie lifted her head back up and hugged the vase tightly. "How…long has that been happening?" Reaver asked.

"Probably about a few minutes after drinking that cure-all. I think I just vomited lunch from three days ago…" Rosie whined. Reaver knelt down but quickly shot back up when Rosie started vomiting again. He cringed at the sounds Rosie made. "Oh by the gods, make it stop!" she screamed from inside the vase.

Leaving Rosie curled in a fetal position on the study floor (and making a mental note to throw out that vase), Reaver went to find Beryl. "Beryl?" he shouted in a sing-song manner. "Beryl, where are you?" he shouted, as he went up the stairs. He walked to the hallway, and saw his bedroom doorslightly ajar.

"She had better not be in my room." Reaver grumbled, as he slowly walked to his room. He pushed the door open slightly and saw Beryl, curled up in a ball in the middle of his room. "Beryl, what are you doing in my room?" he shouted.

Beryl looked up at him, crying. "Mr. Reaver, I didn't mean to stain your perfect sheets…" she whimpered.

"You did what?" he asked, in a shocked manner.

Beryl stood up and hugged the sheets closely. All of a sudden, she ripped them apart. "You think that just because you…" her anger made the room hotter. "…you have a lot of fancy things that you're better than me?!" she screeched.

"Well, yes…but what is this all about?" asked Reaver, backing up.

Beryl smiled a big cheery smile, which really scared Reaver. "Mr. Reaver, it's such a beautiful day! Why don't we go on a picnic? I'll have Miss Sarah make us a nice, lovely lunch and we can spend the day in the happy sunlight!" she said, as she danced around the room. "I'll just sew these up real quick…" Beryl's new sunny demeanor wasn't as funny as Reaver had hoped it would be. It was actually quite scary.

"Alright Beryl, now calm down, you're starting to scare me a little." said Reaver.

"Scare you?! You don't like it when I'm happy?" Beryl started crying again and turned away from Reaver.

"Now, now, Beryl, I demand you stop this at once." Reaver shouted, putting his clipboard down on a nearby table.

The room became quiet as Beryl slowly turned to Reaver with a lustful look in her eyes. "Mr. Reaver…" Beryl slowly walked to him as he backed against the wall.

"Beryl, why are you looking at me like that?" Reaver's fear soon found him trying to reach for the door knob and finding nothing. "Beryl, get away from me…"

A half hour later, Reaver emerged from his room, flustered and sweating. Tucking his shirt back and refastening his pants, Reaver fumbled the thought of telling this to anyone. "I have never seen another naked human being bend in those angles!" He leaned against the wall and attempted to catch his breath. Straightening himself up, Reaver decided to let Beryl "sleep it off" and went to find another subject. He figured waking her now would be like waking a sleeping bear: suicidal and stupid. "I think I need to take a bath after that." He heard screaming from downstairs and went to investigate.

Coming to the staircase, he found the source of the screaming. Barry was grasping his face and screaming like a raving lunatic. "Oh, by the gods! I'M BLIND!" he shouted, running around like a crazed chicken. Reaver tried to tune out the screaming as he took out the clipboard and starting jutting stuff down. Oddly, Willa still stood in her spot by the piano, not noticing the chaos around her.

"I should probably check on Miss Sarah and see how she doing." Reaver mumbled, trying to ignore Barry's frantic screams. Reaver walked into the kitchen, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. "Miss Sarah? Are you in here?" he shouted, looking around. He noticed that lunch was half-way done and he heard crying coming from the pantry. He dreaded opening the pantry door, but he did anyway, only very slowly. His eyes widened when he looked inside. "Miss Sarah?" he asked softly. He took one step in and noted the floor was covered in straw. "Where did all this straw come from?" he asked himself, stepping on it a few times.

"It's not straw, Mr. Reaver." chirped a voice from the corner.

Reaver lit a candle and the sight stunned him. "Rapunzel!" Reaver shouted, as Miss Sarah stood up.

"I tried to cut it, but it just keeps growing…" she whined, braiding some of the strands into intricate designs. He decided to leave this one alone and slowly left the pantry.

Rosie, who took to carrying a bucket around, walked up to Reaver. "Sir, we have a problem with Gordon." She said, in a queasy manner.

Reaver sighed and tightened his grip on his clipboard. "Oh, now what? Did he grow horns?" he asked, exasperated.

"Not quite…" Rosie led Reaver to the foyer, where Willa still stood in her place.

"Well, where is he and why is his uniform on the floor?" he asked, over Barry's screaming.

Rosie, upon making sure she wasn't going to throw up again, reached into a pile of clothing on the floor. She pulled out a puppy. "Sir, this is Gordon." She said, in the most convincing manner possible. "I watched him drink the rest of the tonic and slowly transform into this puppy."

Even Reaver found this hard to believe, but he knew Rosie wasn't one to lie. Reaver looked at his clipboard and then at the panic around the house. Willa had forgone reality, Barry was blind, Miss Sarah's hair wouldn't stop growing, Beryl had turned into some sort of hormonal beast, Rosie couldn't stop vomiting, and now Gordon had completely transformed into a dog. Reaver raised his pen as Rosie held her bucket close and started vomiting again. He walked into his study and sat down.

"_Side effects include, but are not limited to: blindness, hallucinations, over active mood swings, manic hair growth, nausea, and transformation…"_

* * *

><p>Reaver and Barry walked along the catwalk of one of his factories in Industrial. Barry was wearing a pair of Beryl's glasses, his eyesight still coming back slowly. "How's the eyesight doing, Hatch?" asked Reaver, pretending to be interested.<p>

"Well, it's come back slightly. Luckily, Beryl let me use a pair of her glasses until it's returned fully." Barry responded, jovially. "That reminds me: Beryl has been in your room every night this week since drinking that tonic. What kind of 'special observation' do you have her under?"

Reaver chuckled softly. "You need not worry yourself with it, Hatch. Now, how is everyone else coping?" he asked, stretching his arms a bit.

"Well, Miss Sarah's hair finally stopped growing and we were finally able to cut it back to its regular length. On the plus side, it's softer and more manageable now, according to her, and she was able to make some nice lace doilies and such from her extra hair." Barry said, with a blush.

"Good, good. Now, what about Willa?" Reaver asked.

"Well, we found her worshiping the oven late last night and had to strap her to her bed to keep from lighting any fires. Miss Sarah told me this morning she's slowly coming back to reality." Barry looked at his clipboard and marked a few things down. "That alchemist you called in said Gordon should be back to normal as soon as the antidote he gave him goes through his system. Oh, and Rosie's vomiting has ceased as of this morning."

Nodding his approval, Reaver and Barry approached a woman on the catwalk. "Hatch, this is Gladys. Since I can't oversee all product testing, she was hired to make sure nothing happens in my absence from the factories. She's going to make sure everything is less…homicidal than usual." Barry nodded his hello, which the lady returned, with barely any emotion. "She's the backbone of this facility, and will make sure all test subjects come and go and are disposed of should anything happen." said Reaver, happily.

"Hello, and welcome to the Reaver Industries testing center." said the woman, in an almost mechanical sounding voice over the intercoms.

Reaver smiled and led Barry away from the area. Something about that Gladys lady made Barry very uneasy, but he decided to ignore it for now, as there was much to do; starting with the destruction of the tonic. "Come, Hatch, let's go oversee the tonic destruction. Oh, and I need you to make a few appointments for me…" said Reaver, his cane leading them away.

"Yes, Master Reaver." said Barry, jotting something down on his clipboard. Before boarding the elevator, Barry looked up once again at the Gladys lady, noting she didn't move much, other than outstretching her arm and instructing people where to go. He watched her press the button on the intercom device and something about her statement gave Barry chills.

"Cake and grief counseling will be available at the end of the testing period."

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**Have I made it too obvious I've been on a Portal kick lately? Probably. Do I think Stephen Merchant is hot? Definitely, thought that's unrelated lol.**

**This one is a lot shorter than I hoped it would be, but in the end, I like it for its shortness. I like writing quickies; they are a fast way to get a quick laugh in between the bigger chapters. I've got some good stuff planned for the next few chapters that I know you guys are going to love! OH! And to those who are fans of my "A Maid's Story" fic, the newest chapter is in the works right now! It's a long one, so you guys are in for a treat!**

**I might be doing a Portal fic, soon…but I'm still undecided. Still reeling in from the BioShock fic disaster. Hehehe….**

**Next Installment: There is a force more powerful than all of us, and it's plagued fandoms for too long. Now, it's coming to Albion, and SHE has her eyes on the inhabitants of Lakeview Manor...  
><strong>

**As always, I'd like to thank you for your reviews and I want you all to know, I appreciate your viewership and any criticism you may have, positive or not (I prefer positive, like everyone else). I never actually thought so many people would favorite my story and it seems to be getting quite a nice fan base, which is more than my modesty ever hoped for. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	23. The Mary Sue Conundrum

_Reaver's Servants_

The Mary-Sue Conundrum

_There is no doubt in anyone's mind that there are forces in the universe that cannot be explained; forces beyond the comprehension of anyone in Albion, or anywhere for that matter. One such malevolent force was on its way to Albion, and it (or she, rather) has her sights on one location in particular. This force knows when it is most convenient for it to arrive, and it feeds off the suffering of those around it. When it has finally finished its hunt, it will leave everyone around it drier than a desert. She was coming…and the unsuspecting inhabitants of Lakeview Manor won't stand a chance…_

The early evening brought about the smell of a delicious beef and vegetable stew being made for supper. Autumn had arrived and the servants were dressed in their cold weather uniforms. Longer sleeves, thicker stockings (for the girls, anyway) and the smell of fresh apples indeed meant it was fall. The windows were cracked just slightly, enough to let in a little air, but not enough to catch a draft. Everything at the manor was going like clockwork, with everyone doing their respective chores.

Miss Sarah was chopping the garnish for dinner, as she believed presentation was essential to any meal. Willa and Beryl were helping Rosie bring in the laundry from the clothesline in the garden, where Gordon was clipping flowers for the dining room. Barry was tidying up Reaver's office and making it ready for him upon his arrival home from the factory office. Even little Reavie was making sure she was tidy for her Master's return. Barry left the office and made his way downstairs where he was met by the smell of cornbread being baked along with the simmering of strew.

Barry straightened himself up and walked toward the kitchen to meet the delicious smell. He opened the kitchen doors slowly and found Miss Sarah chopping a small green garnish. "That smells divine, Miss Sarah." said Barry, as he walked in.

Miss Sarah looked up and blushed softly. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Hatch." said Miss Sarah, as she took bowls from the cabinet. "It certainly is stew weather. I woke up shivering this morning. I think I'll sleep with my stockings on tonight." She giggled as she put the bowls on the counter. Her giggling was like the singing of angels to Barry.

"I'd better go set the table. Master Reaver is bound to be home anytime now…" Barry looked at Miss Sarah, as if he wanted to ask her something.

She looked at him curiously as he picked up the fancy bowl. "Is something bothering you, Mr. Hatch?" asked Miss Sarah.

"Oh, no…but…" Barry fumbled with his words as Miss Sarah patiently awaited his response. Miss Sarah turned her head and still smiled. Barry couldn't think of a time Miss Sarah wasn't smiling. "Miss Sarah, I was wondering if maybe this Wednesday, if you would…do me the honor of going to dinner with me." Barry blushed softly and waited for her response.

Miss Sarah blushed and beamed a big smile. "Of course, Mr. Hatch! I'd love to go to dinner with you." She said happily.

Barry beamed from ear to ear. "Great! I can't wait! So, this Wednesday, then?" Miss Sarah nodded with a big smile. Barry put his arm across his stomach and bowed. "Until then, milady!" he chuckled and left the kitchen. Miss Sarah nodded as he left.

Barry was passing the doorway when he heard a knock. Thinking one of the servants locked themselves out again; Barry opened the door, ready to give someone stern talking to, but was greeted only by a powerful gust of wind that almost knocked him down. He hastily closed the door and shut it tight only to hear another knock.

Barry opened it again and this time he was greeted by a young woman wearing a dress with many ribbons on it. She looked up at him with the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen. Her hair was the color of sun-kissed wheat and her face was an adorable round shape with cheeks adorned with freckles in just the right spots. The girl's dress was as white as fresh milk and adorned with pink ribbons on the hips, on the hem of the skirt, and one strategically on her bust. Her hat was just as ornate and complimented her very well, almost _perfectly. _She had a golden heart shaped locket around her neck.

"Hello, are you Mr. Hatch?" asked the girl in a lyrical tone. If anyone could describe this girl, it was perfection personified. Her figure was perfect, and her flawless skin glistened in the sunlight.

"Yes, I am Barry Hatch, and who might you be?" asked Barry, folding his arms. The girl handed Barry a flyer and smiled, holding her basket (she had a wicker picnic basket with her, that's kind of important) close. Barry looked over the flyer and recognized it as the flyer he posted at the beginning of spring.

"My name is Mary-Sue Sapphire Sunspire and I was hoping you'd have a job available…you see…" the girl stepped inside delicately and placed her basket down. "I just moved to this part of Albion not too long ago. My family…well, they were some of the unlucky ones to fall prey to the Darkness that tried to envelope this land. I survived the attack and in her dying breath, my mother gave me her locket and told me that I was destined to do great things!" the girl twirled around happily.

Barry didn't have the heart to tell her he could probably care less. He just sighed and let her continue with the story.

The girl stopped and smiled. "But I must move on with my life, Mr. Hatch! For though my family and my one true love fell to the Darkness, I know deep down they would want me to get on with my life."

Barry cocked an eyebrow at this girl. She couldn't be serious. "…and you decided the best place to start your new life was…here?" he asked, placing a hand on his hip.

The girl nodded happily. "I found this flyer as it danced along the wind. It was destiny, I know it. My new life starts here!" the girl sang.

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss…umm…Sunspire, but there are no…" Barry stopped just as Reaver walked through the door.

"Hatch, how many times have I told you not to leave the front door open?" he scowled, taking off his coat. He glanced over and saw the little bit of perfect sunshine smiling at him. "And who is this…?" Reaver cooed, touching the girl's chin.

Barry sighed and took Reaver's hat as he handed it to him. "This is Mary-Sue, Master Reaver. She's come about the flyer I put up months ago. I was just about to tell her the positions have been filled." Barry crossed his arms and watched Reaver inspect the young woman.

Reaver circled her and moaned softly. He looked her up and down and nodded while murmuring to himself. After a minute or so, Reaver nodded his approval, despite not being asked for it. "Now, now, Hatch, we can't just kick this poor thing out into the cold. Especially someone as…delicious looking as her…" Reaver rubbed his chin and smiled deviously. "You're hired, young lady. You start immediately. Hatch, show her to the servant's hallway." Reaver excused himself and made his way upstairs.

Mary-Sue perked up and followed Barry up the main staircase after picking up her basket. Miss Sarah, who had been peeking out the kitchen door, went back to her cooking. She wasn't sure how she felt about this newcomer. Miss Sarah had to admit it seemed unfair that she and the other servants had to go through the horrible interview process with Reaver, but this girl just walked in and got a job. Miss Sarah, who was always one to see the bright side of everything, just shrugged and went to finish dinner. "Well, either way, it's nice to have a little more help around here. I think I'll go say hello when dinner is done." She mused, as she finished pouring stew into the bowls.

Rosie came in not long after, carrying a basket of laundry. She stopped immediately and glanced around. Something wasn't right, and it was giving her bad vibes. Rosie tried to shake them off and decided to deal with it later. Rosie carried the laundry up the stairs and the feeling became stronger. "Something isn't right…" she muttered to herself.

Upon reaching the top floor, the nagging feeling became the strongest she had ever felt, and it made her head hurt. "Ahh, Rosie! Good to see the laundry is done." said Reaver, sashaying his way toward Rosie. Her silence made him uncomfortable. "Are you not feeling well, Rosie?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest. "I certainly hope you aren't catching a cold. I don't have time to be sick this year."

Rosie rubbed her forehead and sighed. "I'm alright, Mr. Reaver…" she mumbled.

"Good. When you're done putting away my laundry, I want you to go help the new girl get settled in." said Reaver, taking out his pocket watch.

"The new girl, Sir?" asked Rosie.

Reaver nodded and opened up his pocket watch. "Yes, I hired a new maid just a few minutes ago. She literally came in with the wind." He chuckled as he excused himself.

In the servant's hallway, Barry unlocked the last door of the hallway and opened it wide. "Here we are. This will be your room. Most of the rooms are identical, but Master Reaver will let you personalize it to make it feel more comfortable. Just keep it tasteful. I understand the ironic nature of my statement, considering the man who established that rule." He said, as Mary-Sue walked past him.

"It certainly is lovely." She said, softly as Barry lit a candle for her. "Barry…"

"Please call me Mr. Hatch…" said Barry, with a glare.

"Mr. Hatch…do you believe in destiny?" Mary-Sue asked, as she set her basket down. Barry cocked an eyebrow and just stared at her. "Destiny, Mr. Hatch. The thought that two people were meant to meet…that in all the time of searching, you have finally found someone that makes you feel whole…"

Barry just stared at Mary-Sue and started thinking. His mind instantly went to Miss Sarah. Barry smiled a goofy smile and sighed happily. "Destiny…" he mumbled, as he walked away. He passed by Rosie as he mumbled to himself. Rosie shook her head and tried to keep her laughter down.

Rosie knocked on Mary-Sue's door softly. "Umm…are you the new girl?" she asked, peeking into the room.

Mary-Sue turned around slowly and locked eyes with Rosie. A horrible feeling immediately washed over Rosie as she stood in the doorway. This girl didn't seem of the natural world and if there was anything Rosie was sensitive to, it was unnatural phenomena. "Yes, my name is Mary-Sue Ruby Eclipsetide and I was just hired." She said, in a soft lyrical voice. Rosie glared at the girl.

"Hello, I'm Rosie. I'm one of the maids here. I guess we'll be working together." Rosie extended her hand to Mary-Sue, who delayed at first, but then extended hers as well.

The girl gave a smug smile and shook Rosie's hand. "I look forward to working with you and the others, Miss Rosie…" said Mary-Sue.

Rosie didn't like the presence of this person, but she had no reason to hate her yet. Rosie took her hand back and left the room. "There is something about her…it would be wise for me to keep a close eye on her." Rosie muttered, as she left the servants hallway. She arrived in the dining room as Willa and Beryl were setting the table.

"Hey Rosie!" shouted Beryl, placing a plate in Reaver's spot. "I heard we have a new maid!" She and Willa bounced excitedly. Rosie just stared at them. Willa and Beryl knew that look. The unspoken warning was caught well by the two as Rosie went about the rest of her chores. Willa looked up at Beryl, who just shrugged.

In her room, Mary-Sue unpacked her basket and looked into the mirror on her dresser. "What a nice home. Such lovely people…" her eyes turned red and an evil aura surrounded her. The mirror did not reflect the little ray of sunshine that came through the door earlier anymore. It only displayed a dark aura as it cracked softly at her very presence. "So much originality…they will keep the mother satiated for a long, long, time…"

Late night rolled around to the sounds of Miss Sarah's shoes clicking against the floor. Holding a tray of cookies and tea, Miss Sarah put on her sunniest smile and knocked on the door in front of her. It opened slowly and the new maid peeked out. "Hello, I heard you just started here. I'm Sarah, Mr. Reaver's cook." Miss Sarah presented Mary-Sue with the tray. "I thought I'd come up after I was finished tidying up the kitchen and formally welcome you to Lakeview Manor!"

Mary-Sue smiled wide and invited Miss Sarah in. "Why thank you, Ma'am! I'm Mary-Sue Onyx Silvercloud. So, you're the cook? What kind of recipe did you use for these cookies? I have a multitude of recipes for cookies. People often say I was the best cook in my old village, just before the bandits raided it. But I persevered and found my way back to polite society." Mary-Sue's bragging didn't seem to faze Miss Sarah.

"How lovely. I don't like to brag, but I like to think my cooking is pretty good. I have a ravioli recipe that everyone here just loves." Miss Sarah walked into Mary-Sue's room and set the tray down on the night stand. She didn't seem to notice the broken mirror. Miss Sarah smiled and extended her hand, which Mary-Sue happily shook.

"You don't say…well, we should definitely swap recipes…" Mary-Sue smiled sinisterly and slowly closed her door.

Breakfast was late the next morning. Reaver looked at his pocket watch and then at the grandfather clock in the corner. "Where the hell is Miss Sarah with breakfast?" he shouted, as Barry poured him some orange juice. Barry shrugged and looked around. Usually, breakfast would arrive just as Reaver was waking up. He heard his bedroom door open and saw Rosie cower inside.

Clearing her throat, Rosie stayed close to the door, with it conveniently open slightly for a quick escape. "Mr. Reaver, Miss Sarah wanted me to let you know breakfast would be a bit late today…"

"A BIT LATE?" shouted Reaver, as he sat up all the way in bed. Rosie ran from the room before Reaver could grab his gun.

"I'll go see what the holdup is, Master." said Barry, rushing from the room. Breakfast was usually pretty prompt (Miss Sarah prided herself in keeping to the set schedule) and Barry knew something wasn't right.

Arriving at the kitchen, Barry found Miss Sarah lying on the floor. "Miss Sarah!" he shouted, as he ran to help her up. Miss Sarah looked like she could barely stand. Her hair was a mess, her face was pale, and her uniform wasn't on properly. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she was struggling to keep her balance.

Miss Sarah groaned softly and shuffled to her feet. "Wha…Mr. Hatch?" she moaned softly as Barry helped her to her feet. Miss Sarah looked around, as if she wasn't even sure how she arrived in the kitchen in the first place.

"What happened, Miss Sarah?" asked Barry, helping her to the table in the corner.

Grasping her hair, Miss Sarah sat down and tried to think. "I…I don't know. I woke up feeling pretty drained, and when I got to the kitchen…everything just went black."

"What did you do last night? You didn't stay up too late, did you?" Barry asked, leaning against the table.

Miss Sarah shook her head. "No, not really. I went to say hello to the new girl, but I don't think I stayed up very late. I don't feel tired, though." Miss Sarah didn't yawn but she did struggle to get back up. "Mr. Hatch, please give my most sincere apologies to Mr. Reaver…I'll get breakfast started…"

Barry shook his head and helped her up. "That's not happening, Miss Sarah. You're not well. I'll get you up to bed and find someone else to cook breakfast."

Barry helped Miss Sarah up and escorted her to her room. They passed by Mary-Sue, who looked particularly stunning in her uniform. "Good morning, Mr. Hatch! Mr. Reaver said you'd have my assignments for me." she said cheerfully. Barry hated morning people (except Miss Sarah, of course). "Oh my, what's wrong with Sarah?" she asked, frantically.

"I found her fainted on the kitchen floor just now. She's not well." Barry responded.

Mary-Sue gasped loudly, though whether or not her reaction was sincere was debatable. Barry had other things on his mind and didn't seem to notice either way. "How awful! You know, I am an expert healer! I'll be by her room later to nurse her back to health!" Mary-Sue smiled and looked at poor Miss Sarah, who looked like she could barely stand.

"That's generous of you, Mary-Sue, but right now I have to get her to bed and find someone to cook in her place until she gets better." Barry practically snarled at the new maid.

"I am a gourmet chef! I will take over for her until she is well!" Mary-Sue shouted, and ran toward the kitchen.

Barry cocked an eyebrow and watched the eager maid run off. "That's mildly convenient." He muttered, as he helped Miss Sarah to her room. Rosie watched from the doorway adjacent to the servant's hallway. Rosie followed Mary-Sue to the kitchen, but kept her distance.

After only a few minutes, Mary-Sue had made a perfect breakfast and presented it to Reaver herself. Reaver was astonished. "Ahh, how delicious! It almost rivals Miss Sarah's!" he shouted happily.

Mary-Sue stood and watched her boss eat. "Almost, Sir?" she asked, her eye twitching softly.

"Yes, I said almost. Your scrambled eggs are delicious, but not as light and fluffy as Miss Sarah's. Granted, she can't maximize the egg taste like you can, but hers just has something in it that makes her recipes perfect." Reaver wiped his mouth and sighed happily. He didn't notice Mary-Sue twitching softly as she left the room. "Still, it was magnificent and you will replace Miss Sarah until she gets well. The menu for today should be on the counter, that's where she keeps all of her things kitchen-related."

Mary-Sue smiled and turned around to bow. "I won't let you down, Sir!" she said, happily and skipped away.

Sipping his coffee, Reaver sat back in his bed. "That's convenient. A gourmet chef and a maid…and from what Hatch tells me, an expert level healer." Reaver grinned deviously and sipped his coffee. "I believe by the end of the day, I'll be shooting something…"

Mary-Sue made the rounds of any maid that afternoon. She stopped in on Willa and Beryl in the study as they rearranged the bookshelves. "I went to check on Miss Sarah, earlier." said Beryl, as she reached for another book with her foot. "She looks terrible, like someone tried to suck the life out of her." Beryl looked scared and handed the book to Willa, who stood on a ladder putting the books away. Beryl dusted the books with her hands and then would hand them to Willa with her foot. Mary-Sue's eyes gleamed as she walked into the study.

"Oh, you're the new maid, aren't you?" asked Willa, as she slid down from the ladder.

"Yes, my name is Mary-Sue Amethyst Moondove. I'm also taking over for Sarah while she's sick and I've been tending to her, as I am an expert healer." Mary-Sue answered, somewhat accomplished.

"Rosie is an expert healer too! She grew up in a gypsy camp, I think." said Willa.

Mary-Sue twitched a bit. "How wonderful for her. I grew up on the mean streets, garnering knowledge from anywhere it decided to slip. But a flower grew from the grime and I knew my destiny wasn't on the streets."

Willa and Beryl just stared at her and got back to work. Mary-Sue twitched some more but stopped as soon as she saw Beryl get up from the pose she was in. "Oh, you're a contortionist?" asked Mary-Sue, excitedly.

Beryl nodded with a smile. "Yep! I was a contortionist in the circus we all worked in! I was called Lady Pretzel and my act was very popular!" Beryl said proudly. "My _pièce de résistance _was a move that took me years to perfect!" Beryl stood on her hands and did a handstand. After a few seconds, she was balancing on her head doing a split in the air. "Balancing on the tip top of your head takes some practice, but after you perfect it, it's a lot of fun!" Beryl made herself spin and then did a front flip back to her feet. She bowed with a smug smile. "That was just half of the routine. I don't want Mr. Reaver to see me slacking off again." She giggled, as she readjusted her glasses.

Mary-Sue smiled wide. "I studied contortionism for years!" she said, happily. Mary-Sue bent herself backwards and touched the ground behind her. She then stood on one hand and balanced on her index finger. In one swift move, she kicked herself over and did two flips, landing on her tip toes.

Wide-eyed, Beryl clapped in a lackluster (borderline sarcastic) manner. "That was…good…" she mumbled, jealously.

Willa smiled and clapped softly as well. "That was pretty neat. I've never seen anyone match Beryl's abilities." Willa smugly smirked and folded her arms. "I trained under my dad, the Strongman, for years hoping I could get a crowd like Beryl's someday."

"Your dad was a strongman?" asked Mary-Sue with amazement.

Willa smiled proudly and put her hands on her hips. "Yeppers!" She shouted happily. "Olaf the Strong! When my training was complete, we were going to be billed as a father/daughter act, but our circus…umm, 'mysteriously' shut down." Willa rubbed the back of her head and smiled nervously.

"Could you show me?" asked Mary-Sue. Willa never gave up a chance to show off for an eager spectator. Willa lifted a nearby chair with ease. Mary-Sue cracked her knuckles and lifted the statue in the middle of the study. Willa stood amazed. "Impressive…for a beginner…" she said, a little sad.

Beryl, having had enough of being shown up, left the study in a huff. Willa smiled nervously and followed after Beryl. They both passed by Reaver as he made his way downstairs. Beryl looked like she was crying. "I…I…sniff sniff…studied for years and nearly broke my back…sniffle…training every day for years only to be shown up by her…!" Beryl cried, as Willa chased after her.

Reaver looked into the study at Mary-Sue, who was just standing by the window, her ivory skin catching to autumn sun. Her locket was shining against the sun. Mary-Sue heard Reaver's boots against the marble floor. She turned to him in semi-surprise and glanced at him with her deep emerald eyes. Her hair, rivaling the sunrays in both length and shine, bounced as she walked up to her boss. "Hello there, Mr. Reaver." She said, as her ruby red lips curled around every word like a gentle ocean.

With a smirk, Reaver walked with Mary-Sue toward the kitchen. "I must say, you are more impressive than I had originally hoped." Reaver couldn't take his eyes off Mary-Sue. She was just too perfect. Reaver usually didn't allow things more perfect than him in the house. He decided to let this slide…he had a plan. "My dear Miss Sue, would you go collect some flowers from Gordon in the garden?" he asked, his gloved hand hovering just above her back. Mary-Sue smiled wide and ran out the front door.

Outside, Gordon snipped his way around a hedge as Mary-Sue happily trotted up to him. Gordon looked behind himself and saw her. She looked curious to him. "Oh, you must be the new maid the girls have been going on about. Well, I'm Gordon, the groundskeeper and butler." He said, going about his work.

"I'm Mary-Sue Garnet Skybird. It's nice to meet you." Mary-Sue extended her hand, but Gordon ignored her, focusing on the task at hand. She retracted her hand and twitched a bit. "What a lovely garden you keep." said Mary-Sue, trying to make conversation from the awkward silence.

Gordon smiled and snipped a bit around the hedge he was working on. His eyes met her grey as diamond eyes and felt compelled to impress her, though he wasn't sure why. "Well, it's nothing special. I just happen to be good with plants."

"Plants are a specialty of mine!" Mary-Sue beamed with delight looking over the flowers. "The farm I grew up on had lots of plants. I couldn't get enough of the perfect shades and colors…" she touched a rosebud and smiled as Gordon snipped the hedge into a likeness of Mary-Sue without realizing it.

"It was supposed to be a horse…" He chuckled softly as he put his clippers down.

Mary-Sue giggled. "Before I forget, Mr. Reaver wants some flowers, probably for the dining room table." Mary-Sue smiled and followed Gordon. Gordon snipped a few flowers and placed them in a basket. "So, it's my understanding that everyone here used to work for the circus. What did you do there?" asked Mary-Sue.

Gordon blushed deeply, which Mary-Sue returned. "I was an acrobat and trapeze artist. My gardening passion came from helping the make-up artists in between my acts. It's a great stress reliever." Gordon seemed oddly happy with Mary-Sue around. He was a bit unnerved by how unnatural it felt.

As Mary-Sue left the garden, Gordon went to correct the hedge he messed up. As he picked up his clippers, he looked over at the rose bush and saw a dead rosebud. It was the only one that was dead on the whole bush. He clipped it off and held it in the palm of his hand. "How strange…"

It was almost dinner time and Rosie was setting the table alone. She had almost finished when she heard the sound of a basket shuffling around. Looking over her shoulder, Rosie saw Mary-Sue place the basket on the dining room table. "That Gordon sure is something, isn't he? He reminds me of the shopkeeper I used to be engaged to." She said with a hum. "We were forced to call off our engagement after his family forbade us to wed. He was sent along with the army to fight in a faraway land and I haven't seen him since…"

Rosie just stared at her and finished setting the table. "Gordon does have one of those faces." said Rosie stoically.

Mary-Sue looked at Rosie curiously and giggled nervously. "You know, you blushed a little bit when I mentioned Gordon. Do you have a crush on him?" she asked, smugly.

Rosie just stared at Mary-Sue. "Gordon and I have been friends for years. We have a deep respect for one another, but I doubt it will ever go further than that." Rosie's simple answer made Mary-Sue twitch.

Mary-Sue giggled nervously. "Well, either way, he seems to have taken a liking to me. I'm flattered, really, by all the attention the guys around here have been giving me, but I'm just too modest to choose." Mary-Sue blushed as Rosie walked past her.

Their eyes meeting, Rosie made it very clear that whatever Mary-Sue was up to, it wouldn't work on her. "If Mr. Reaver doesn't get to you first, I doubt Gordon or Mr. Hatch will." said Rosie.

_Something is wrong…_ Mary-Sue thought.

"Something is very wrong, but it isn't me…" said Rosie, as she turned around. Mary-Sue stood there, amazed. Rosie just left the dining room, leaving Mary-Sue standing there, trying to keep her wits about her.

"No, no, no! This can't happen. I am so close…" she mumbled as she paced the dining room. Mary-Sue straightened herself up and went to start dinner. She stomped her way to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "I'm so close, but I don't have enough…that perky Sarah can only give me so much life essence before I completely suck her dry, and I'd barely have enough for myself to complete my task…I know what I must do…" She started cooking, but didn't know she was being watched…

Barry skipped dinner that night to tend to Miss Sarah, who looked like she was getting worse by the minute. He knew the hour was getting late, but he didn't care. He'd stay by her side all night if he had to. "Miss Sarah, how are you feeling?" he asked, as she woke up.

"I feel like I've been run over by a cart, but otherwise…pretty bad." She wheezed, turning to face him. "Mr. Hatch, you don't have to tend to me." She coughed softly and tried to sit up, but Barry laid her back down.

"It's not a problem, Miss Sarah. I trust Rosie to take care of you, but that new girl…just gives me a funny feeling…" Barry turned around to make sure no one else was nearby. "I don't think that girl has good intentions at all, Miss Sarah. Something is telling me she isn't here just for the job."

Miss Sarah smiled softly. "Don't think ill of people, Mr. Hatch. I'm sure she just takes some getting used to." Miss Sarah snuggled back into her blanket and drifted off to sleep again. One of the things Barry liked about Miss Sarah was her ability to see the good in anything, despite how ominously displaced it seemed.

Barry got up and took the tray with the tea set with him. Promising to be back soon, Barry left Miss Sarah's room and made his way to the dining room. Dinner had ended hours ago, but Barry was confused to see a candlelit dinner waiting on the table. Mary-Sue was sitting in one of the chairs. "Hello, Mr. Hatch…" she said, seductively. Barry didn't seem to know what was going on. "Mr. Hatch, I know we've barely gotten to know each other, but I feel like it was destiny, us meeting." She moaned, getting up from her chair.

Gripping the tray tightly, Barry back up as Mary-Sue grew closer. "Miss, please stop this at once…" he insisted, as Mary-Sue attempted to kiss him.

"Mr. Hatch, I am embarrassed to say this…but even though we've only known each other for such a short time…I think I'm in love with you!" Mary-Sue wrapped her arms around Barry's neck. Barry tried to pry her off, but she held on tightly. Mary-Sue's eyes shimmered like two golden orbs. "Mr. Hatch, let's run away together! We'll go far away and live our lives in harmonic bliss!" Mary-Sue snuggled up to Barry and nipped at his neck. Barry dropped the tray he was holding and fought to keep his arms from grasping her. "Oh, Mr. Hatch, hold me! Hold me in your big strong arms."

Barry grasped her arms, his heart pounding. Mary-Sue semi-puckered her blood red lips and closed her eyes. She could feel the heat of the moment rising, and then slowly cooling as Barry pushed her away. "Look, I'm flattered, Miss…whoever the hell you are, but my heart already belongs to someone." said Barry, as he picked up the tray he dropped.

Mary-Sue's eye twitched as she backed into the table. "But…how can you love another? I'M PERFECT!" she shouted.

"That's what I don't like you about you. You're perfect. Perfection isn't human. I'm in love with someone who has flaws. But…to me…those flaws are what make her perfect…" Barry blushed and thought about Miss Sarah. "I don't care if she's a bit meaty on the hips or has a webbed pinky toe or has an unusual fear of oceans. To me, she is perfect." Barry walked away as Mary-Sue started to panic. Her locket started to become less golden and rustier.

"No…" she uttered, and ran after him. "How can you love that?!" she screamed, as he walked away.

Barry stopped and turned to Mary-Sue, glaring at her. "Her name is Sarah…" Barry snarled and kept walking.

Mary-Sue felt her head spin. She started to panic and ran up the stairs. "There is still time…Gordon or Reaver…one of them…" she muttered. The moment her foot touched the top step, she heard a gun cocking. She looked up and saw Reaver smiling defiantly at her.

Reaver smiled smugly and kept his gun pointed at her. "You know, when you first arrived, you almost had me fooled. Even when Rosie told me something was off about you and my dear little kitty Reavie refused to leave the bedroom; I didn't want to believe the signs. I mean the simple notion of something as offbeat as an evil entity in my home is a bit insane, given the circumstances. But with all that I've seen in the short time my circus rejects have been here, you must admit, Miss Mary-Sue Sapphire Ruby Onyx Amethyst Garnet Sunspire-Eclipsetide-Moondove-Skybird-Silvercloud…I know strange from just plain despicable."

The room was completely black, except for Reaver and Mary-Sue. "Such a long name…adorable as they are, but a pain in the rear end, don't you think? You're a bumbling little entity, can't even remember the name you give yourself. Amateur mistake, if I do say so myself." Mary-Sue stood her ground, but was obviously intimidated.

"...but a man doesn't live over three hundred years and not know when something is wrong with the world. Your very presence is throwing the entire house, if not the whole of Albion, off balance. I know this isn't your first trip to this plain of existence, but by the irresponsible and careless manner in which you've done your 'mission', it is about to be your last. I've read all about your kind. I forget what you're all called, but I know you can shape reality to your whim and take any look or profession or past that pleases you. You have an impressive repertoire for someone who lost her family to The Darkness but claims to have grown up on the streets of Bowerstone but not at the same time as learning to become a healer and gourmet chef on the farm while romancing a shopkeeper and dodging a bandit attack."

Reaver was hitting close to home as he paced in front of her. Mary-Sue (if that was even her name) looked panicked and wanted to dart away, but the laws of her kind state she had to listen to his very winded monologue, no matter how much she wanted to resist.

"You are, as the books state, from a hive mind that feeds off life essence of those who touch you. As we speak, Hatch is probably doubled over on the foyer floor from that adorable little embrace you forced him into while Miss Sarah is barely clinging to life. Miss Sarah's friendly nature was too easy, wasn't it? She wasn't giving you the energy you needed, so you decided to go after the others. But you underestimated my circus rejects, my dove, and that was a big mistake you made. But there is a very big mistake I saw you make just now…and as cliché and cheesy as it sounds, it's true. You underestimated the power…of love…"

Mary-Sue didn't have the energy to fight Reaver, not that she would have stood a chance in the first place. The Dragonstomper aimed precisely, Reaver smiled evilly and licked his lips. "It's a shame, really. I was looking forward to seducing you and charming you into my bedroom…had I not known you would suck the life right out of me once I did just that. You were sloppy…the other ones I encountered were much more discreet…"

"Other ones…?" Mary-Sue asked.

Reaver chuckled evilly. "You…honestly didn't think a man of my years and experience wouldn't come across others like you? You're no amateur, that's obvious, but you made many amateur mistakes; which means you're a bumbling failure and by the panicked look on your face, the 'Mother' as your leader is called, is not happy with you. You've quite literally failed her for the last time and now, since I know you can't die in the traditional sense, I will send you back where you came from…"

Reaver aimed at Mary-Sue and fired, not hitting her where he intended. It was obvious he was playing with her. No blood gushed from her wound. She looked up and took on another face. Reaver stepped back at this sight and knew the entity was getting desperate. "You take the face…of the woman I loved long ago…that was your final mistake…" Reaver's aim was legendary. No one could match him, not in a million years. He shot her through her locket and watched her writhe in pain.

The house and everything within twisted and contorted as Mary-Sue screamed in agony, becoming her true form: a featureless shadow.

"NO! I CAN'T GO BACK! MOTHER WILL DESTROY ME!" she shouted as a portal opened up behind her. Reaver grabbed onto a pillar and held on tight. The portal was sucking in anything it could, but its intended target seemed to be the only thing going into the portal. "I CANNOT DIE LIKE THIS! I AM PERFECTION!" Mary-Sue shouted as a thousand shadowy hands reached out from the portal and grabbed her. Her red glowing orb eyes looked at Reaver, as if begging him to help her. She attempted to claw her way to him, but the shadowing hands proved too strong. Reaver decided to give them a hand.

"PERFECTION IS A FLAW!" shouted Reaver, shooting her one more time as she screamed. The shot made Mary-Sue lose her grip on this plain of existence and the entities dragged Mary-Sue into the portal. After one final agonizing scream and the mandatory vow for revenge, the portal collapsed on itself. Reaver decided, now that the portal was gone, to have the servants tidy up in the morning. He was tired and needed his beauty sleep.

The next morning, no one (except Reaver) remembered a thing about the last two days. Miss Sarah woke up as she normally did to fix breakfast. She found Barry asleep on the foyer floor and shook him awake. Deciding he must have fallen asleep while doing something, Barry brushed himself off and went to wake up Reaver, but not before turning to Miss Sarah and asking her something. They both blushed as she happily agreed to his dinner invitation for that coming Wednesday.

While the other servants pondered the mess in the dining room (commenting it looked like a tornado went through one part of the house), Reaver would remember his battle for all time, and he had a feeling Rosie knew what happened, too. Reaver decided to keep this story to himself and opted to not write about it in his journal. He could hardly believe it happened himself. He awoke to Reavie's soft purring and the smell of eggs and bacon wafting through the manor. All was as it should be…for the time being, anyway.

Reavie cuddled her head under Reaver's hand as he sighed happily. The autumn day greeted him with a smile, which he happily returned. Reaver, being the proud man he was, knew there was only room for one perfect being in Lakeview Manor, and felt he did the right thing, if not for him, than for the others. Despite anything he was willing to admit, he was happy with everything as it was.

"This…this is perfection…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, you guys! Did you all miss me? I missed you guys!<strong>

**If you feel confused, don't worry, I meant for this chapter to not make any sense. **

**Inspiration for this came from a comment a friend of mine made about my character, the lovely and long suffering Miss Sarah. They commented that she sometimes seemed "Mary-Sueish" and it hurt my feelings a bit. It was never my intention to make Miss Sarah the perfect human being. When I went about creating her, I intended on making her motherly, as she looked after everyone in the manor as if they were children. If she came off as a bit of a Mary-Sue, I sincerely apologize but trust me, she has flaws like any other human.**

**Honestly, it was hard writing for the entity of "Mary-Sue" because it is hard to write someone who isn't flawed. Trying to make her seem so…perfect was exhausting, but I did my best. Interesting history about the term of "Mary-Sue": It originated from a fan story submitted to a Star Trek magazine in the late 70s about the adventures of the youngest Starfleet Lieutenant. Crazy, right?**

**I intended on giving Rosie a bigger part in this chapter, but I didn't want to overkill the concept, as it was exhausting enough writing a character that was perfect. The end result, after much editing and second guessing, I am very happy with.**

**If you guys have the time, go over to the Portal section and check out my Portal fic: Reconstructing Humanity. Shameless promotion!**

**Next Installment: Birthday madness!  
><strong>

**As always, review and be merry, my friends! I appreciate your patience with me and I hope this was worth the wait.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	24. A Quiet Autumn Evening

_Reaver's Servants_

A Quiet Autumn Evening

The early evening was still somewhat bright, with birds quieting down for the night and the cold weather finally coming in. Gone were the short sleeves and the even shorter skirts of the servant's uniforms. Now, they were replaced with long sleeves, longer dress skirts, and thicker striped stockings. Each of the female servants enjoyed the new uniforms, though it didn't stop a certain employer from pinching their behinds at every turn. Though this evening, something was off in Lakeview Manor and it had Reaver a tad bit confused.

Reaver didn't like how oddly quiet it was for early evening. He didn't like the quiet. Normally, he'd see his servants running about doing their various chores, but today Reaver was a little worried. Maybe worried wasn't the word he'd use, he didn't want the servants to think he was soft, especially for them. Infuriated was the word Reaver wanted to use. Yes, infuriated that his servants were nowhere to be found when he called for them.

Emerging from his office, Reaver noticed the quiet even more. He had been in his office going over new plans for a factory expansion and hadn't left all day. Even at lunch time, Reaver instructed Barry to just leave the tray on the table by the door. He hadn't touched it, though. Reaver's lunch was still on the silver tray with the silver covering. It was probably long cold by now, and Reaver's stomach was growling. By the position of the sun outside his office window, Reaver estimated it was about time for dinner. He decided to check on dinner, which he oddly didn't smell.

"Miss Sarah?" Reaver asked, poking his head into the kitchen. Miss Sarah, who was usually busy making dinner at that time, seemed to be oddly absent as well. He remembered instructing Miss Sarah that he wanted roast beef and veggies for dinner, but didn't see anything of the sort being made. The kitchen, which Miss Sarah kept immaculate, was bare. Reaver scratched his head and stepped into the kitchen. "Maybe she trapped herself in the pantry again. I swear, sometimes…"

When Reaver opened the pantry doors, he found the fully stocked pantry missing one chef. "Miss Sarah, are you in here?" he shouted into the pantry. Reaver felt like a fool and left the kitchen. Reaver dusted off his vest and looked toward the stairs when he thought he heard footsteps. He ran up the stairs and smiled wickedly, but found the dining room bare. Reaver scratched his chin and went back downstairs.

Something wasn't right, and Reaver didn't like it. It wasn't Wednesday, so he knew he hadn't forgotten their night off again. Reaver didn't recall giving anyone a day off, let alone all of his servants. Once Reaver thought about it for a good long while, he realized that even his cat, Reavie, was missing.

Reavie, who usually spent her days lying on the piano bench near the main doorway or bothering Miss Sarah for scraps of food, was also absent from the manor it seemed. "Reavie?" Reaver called out into the study. He sometimes found her in there chasing moths or sharpening her claws on his chair. Reaver walked into the study and looked around. The chair was sitting there, looking pretty nice from its last reupholster job. There was no sign of the servants or his cat, though.

Reaver stood up straight when he thought he heard the front door close with the sounds of footsteps behind him. Reaver turned around swiftly but saw no one. Leaving the study, Reaver walked over to the front doors and opened one wide. He popped his head outside and looked around. Whoever was running around must have come inside, because Reaver would have seen someone running from the front of the house. Feeling he finally cornered one of his elusive servants, Reaver marched upstairs.

No one in the dining room, so Reaver decided to check the servant's hallway. He opened the door leading to the servant's quarters but found that hallway bare as well. Reaver opened each door (the doors in the servant's hallway didn't have locks) and noticed each room was empty, save for each individual servant's personal effects. "Well, they didn't run off, all their junk is still here." He murmured, leaving the servant's hallway.

Reaver huffed loudly and folded his arms like a scolded child. It was at that moment that he realized he hadn't been in any of the servant's rooms. He had been in Rosie's once, but not long enough to see anything too damning (except the collection of stuffed animals amongst the odd gypsy items). At that moment, Reaver realized he knew more about this batch of servants than he ever knew about his old servants. Reaver often made a note not to get too attached to his help, as most of the time they didn't last long.

He tried not to think too much about it. Reaver didn't like diving too much into his help's lives unless there was some benefit to him. In the case of his current batch of servants, there rarely was. The most he had to go on was that Rosie was allergic to ginger and Miss Sarah had an irrational fear of oceans. Not much blackmail material, but he still liked to know he could keep the servants in check if need be.

Scratching his chin again, Reaver looked around and tried to think. "I don't remember giving them the night off, and I certainly would have remembered a holiday of some kind. I recall Hatch roaming around earlier, but he didn't look too occupied. Maybe they are in the garden with Gordon. I shall make a note to punish them severely for not being around when I need them. I could be dying and they wouldn't know!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

Reaver tried to remember something of any significance as he made his way to the garden. He remembered a few days ago overhearing Barry tell Willa, "No, I don't want any part of this. I'll help you get it ready, but this was your idea. You're taking the wrap for this, I don't care if he likes it or not."

At the time, Reaver didn't know what Barry was talking about and decided to ignore it, like he did with most things around his home that didn't pertain to him. He was starting to think he should have paid closer attention and scratched his chin a little more.

Stomping outside, Reaver made his way around the big statue of himself and opened the garden gate. The garden, which was trimmed and blooming despite the cold front coming in, was empty of his servants. "Gordon, are you here? I need assistance! Miss Sarah hasn't started dinner yet and the others are missing! I can't even find Hatch and Reavie!" Reaver shouted, hoping he'd find Gordon in the garden. When he looked over and saw the garden shed door wide open, Reaver felt relieved. "Gordon, good, you can help me…"

Opening the garden shed proved ineffectual. The shed contained all the gardening tools that Gordon used on a daily basis but not Gordon. Closing the garden doors, Reaver walked back toward the garden gate and turned his attention over at the clothesline. He knew today was laundry day and sure enough, some of his laundry was waving in the early evening breeze. This meant Rosie had been outside recently. Rosie knew Reaver liked his laundry done promptly and didn't like the moist night air getting into his expensive clothes.

"Rosie should be by at any moment to take those in. She knows how I hate the nighttime moisture in the fabric." Reaver resigned himself to sitting on a nearby stone bench. He took out his pocket watch and glared at the time with anguish. Almost twenty minutes passed before Reaver lost his patience. He gripped his pocket watch tight enough for the glass to crack.

"That is coming out of their pay!" he grumbled, glaring at the night sky. Reaver stood up and marched out of the garden, slamming the garden gate as he left. "I have had quite enough of this nonsense!" he shouted.

Reaver glanced over at the path leading to his front gate and saw it open slowly. He squinted softly and watched a small figure leave the property. He recognized that short stature anywhere. Willa (or her shadow, rather) ran from the front gate toward the hill. "Little Bit!" Reaver shouted, running toward his front gate. Reaver saw the shadow look behind herself and gasp loudly, picking up the pace and running up the hill as fast as she could go. It looked like she was carrying something.

"Get back here!" Reaver shouted, making sure his hat stayed on as he gave chase. He heard Willa shout in panic and pick up the pace. For someone as short as she was, Willa was a fast runner and Reaver soon found himself out of breath and leaning against a tree. He grasped his chest and took deep breaths as he watched Willa's shadow disappear towards the hill. Reaver glanced up once and sighed. Wherever she went, she was probably already ahead of him.

Reaver certainly had a mystery on his hands. First his servants were nowhere to be found. Then, when he finally found one, she runs away from him. Reaver didn't like what was going on, mostly because he was out of the loop. He didn't like that at all. Making sure his gun was close, Reaver walked up the path a little ways.

He walked up the hill that led towards Driftwood, a small village on the coast. He remembered the day he bought this land and ousted those annoying Eco-warriors (or whatever they were calling themselves nowadays). Peace and love was all well and good, but Reaver detested these people with a fiery vengeance and the moment the deed was approved (anyone, even a smelly gypsy, wouldn't refuse a giant sack of gold when it was handed to them); he went about destroying what was left of the caravans. Barry often asked him why he bought this seemingly worthless land. Reaver told him to mind his own business immediately afterward.

The moment Reaver stepped onto the bridge he was met by the resident bandit troupe that had made their home amongst the destroyed caravans. The descended from the trees and popped up from behind bushes, greeting Reaver with greedy smiles. The leader, stepping forward, brandished his gun.

Reaver, clearly not frightened by the bandits, cleared his throat. "Excuse me, my good gentlemen; you lot haven't seen a small troupe of servants wandering around Bower Lake, have you?" Reaver asked. The bandits grinned at each other and then back to Reaver. Reaver sighed softly and straightened out his vest. "Well, I'm sure you've seen them around. Even in this decrepit place, you've noticed my lovely manor. It's right over there just beyond the bridge and down the hill. Lake front property is not cheap but worth every coin, I assure you. Now, let's get down to business."

The bandit leader laughed loudly, his troupe joining in. "Business? What business do you, of all people, have with us? Need someone knocked off?" he laughed. Reaver did not find this amusing. He looked behind the trees and noted the sun was going down. It was almost dinner time.

"Haha, yes, I would come to you for such an unspeakable act, but alas I am in no need of someone's undoing. Not this week, anyway. I am merely looking for my servants. You've seen them around, I'm sure. One is an orange haired man that conveniently disappears on full moons, that's my assistant, Barry. The other five are Miss Sarah, my cook; Gordon, my gardener; Rosie, Willa, and Beryl, my other maids. You'd notice them right away, if the servant's outfits don't give them away." Reaver watched patiently as the bandit leader folded his arms. "I need to find them soon. It's almost dinner time and I like having my dinner promptly at…"

Before Reaver could take out his pocket watch, the bandits descended on Reaver en masse. The only thing heard from that area was rapid gunfire and the sounds of bandits running for their lives. The nobles by the lake looked up at the hill in shock, wondering what was going on.

Reaver dusted off his vest and reloaded his gun. Around him lay the entire bandit troupe. The leader, still somehow alive, looked up at Reaver as he came closer. "Now, if we're done with that embarrassing spectacle, I think we can finally get down to business. I'm going to ask you again and I want an answer this time: Have…you…seen…my…servants?" Reaver knelt down, his hands behind his back. The bandit leader shook his head. Reaver made a tsking sound with his mouth and tongue and stood up. "You haven't seen my cat at all either, I bet." He murmured. Before the bandit leader could answer, Reaver shot him point blank.

Making his was down the hill again, Reaver noticed it was now completely dark. "I swear I am going to give it to them good, and not in the good way!" he shouted, stomping his way down the hill. After he went down the hill, he noticed some of the nobles by the lake. Making his way toward the lake, Reaver noticed something odd about the bridge leading to the gazebo on the lake.

Keeping his hand on his gun, Reaver slowly made his way toward the path to the lake. As he approached, he realized that the lights were actually paper lanterns and streamers made a path along the walkway. Reaver had this gazebo put up years ago, around the time of Lakeview's construction. Once again, when Barry (who had just been hired at the time) asked why, Reaver told him to mind his own business.

Reaver made his way toward the gazebo dock and looked down at the streamers. He brushed a few out of his way and finally made his way to the gazebo itself. On the stone table sat a red box. The tag was simple and it said "To Mister Reaver. Open me!" in cute cursive. This had to be from his servants. Only they called him Mr. Reaver. Reaver pulled the tag and the box opened with a loud "POOF" and a shower on confetti, followed by noisemakers and clapping.

Looking behind him, Reaver was met by his clapping servants and a few of the nobles that begrudgingly called themselves his neighbors. "Happy Birthday, Mr. Reaver!" they shouted, as Miss Sarah presented him with a three layered cake.

"Birthday?" he murmured, trying to get his eye to stop twitching.

Gordon nodded and held up his gift. "We didn't know when your birthday was, since you don't talk about it. So, after going through some old papers we found, we discovered it was today!" Gordon handed Reaver his gift to him as each servant stepped forward.

"We didn't have much time to get this little shin-dig going, but we pieced together something just in time!" Beryl shouted happily, handing her small gift to her boss. "We had to convince Mr. Hatch to help us put all this together, and Miss Sarah made you a lovely birthday dinner and cake!" Beryl pointed to Miss Sarah, who happily held up the cake and placed it on the stone table. Willa and Rosie stepped forward next, each giving their gift to their boss. Rosie held Reavie, who jumped from her arms and into Reaver's.

Barry smiled and handed his gift to Reaver as well. "Happy Birthday, Master Reaver." He murmured, joining the rest of the servants. Reaver looked among his servants and smiled. Before he knew it, Miss Sarah was serving everyone a special birthday dinner.

Reaver decided to let this one slide. After the wine was poured and the dinner served, Reaver started to open his gifts. While they were lackluster at best, and Reaver was quick to point that out, he secretly appreciated each one as he placed them back in their respective boxes. Reaver opened Barry's gift last, revealing a brand new pocket watch. "I saved up for a while to get it for you. I figured after today, you'd probably need one. I'm surprised you didn't toss yours out the window wondering where we were."

In his mind, Reaver catalogued each gift. Gordon bought Reaver a brand new silk hat, Rosie got him some new goggles, Willa bought him a new pen set, Beryl bought him a new journal, and Miss Sarah's gift was the cake and the delicious dinner she made.

With a happy sigh, Reaver smiled at the gifts and then looked up at his servants as the nobles left the area. "I don't know what to say, my dears. In all my years, none of my servants ever treated me so well. With an exception to Hatch, most of the time my servants have ignored me unless I gave them orders. But I must say, never in my time here have I ever had a group of servants go above and beyond just for me. I must say, I'm honored."

The servants smiled to each other, feeling they did well. Reaver chuckled softly and glared at the servants. "Now, tell me, my doves; how did you find out it was my birthday? I must admit, I've been so busy, I completely forgot myself."

Willa perked up as she dipped her fork into her slice of cake. "We found some old boxes in the basement while helping Rosie with the laundry the other day. Me, Beryl, Rosie, Miss Sarah, and Gordon decided that with all the hard work you've been doing. I mean, who works so hard and forgets their own birthday?" The servants laughed as Reaver softly put his cake slice on the stone table.

Reaver stood up and placed his hand on his hip. "My dears, didn't you think there was a reason those boxes were tucked away in the basement like that?" he asked. The servant's laughter slowly died as Reaver reached for his gun and smiled devilishly. "Maybe I don't like being reminded of how old I am. Not that I don't appreciate this little shin-dig, but I must say going through my private papers cannot go unpunished." Reaver laughed as he cocked his gun. "But because you all were so kind to me, I won't use my gun and I'll give you a five second head start. Hatch, fetch me my whip!"

With that, the servants ran for their very lives. From the gazebo, Barry watched Reaver chase the servants around Bower Lake, the crack of a whip being silenced amongst the screams of the panicking servants. "This will teach you to go through my personal belongings!" Reaver shouted with the whip's tip hitting Gordon's behind as he and the others ran. Barry dipped his fork into his cake slice and chewed slowly. Reavie sat next to him and mewed softly over her saucer of milk.

"Well, can't say I didn't warn them." Barry murmured, placing the fork to his mouth. Reavie mewed in agreement and watched the spectacle with light amusement.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my doves!<strong>

**Oh my, how long has it been? Over a year?! AHHHH! I am so late!**

**Well, I've been busy, if you must know. I've been busy with my projects over in the portal area and a few other things as well. I know I said I was planning to end this fic, but I've decided instead to just make it a series of quickies along with a few big chapters in between. You know humorous little tid-bits to get you through the day. I've been too wracked with other projects in and out of fanfiction that I don't have a lot of time on my hands like I used to.**

**I didn't want to abandon this project, as it has sentimental value to me. It was the first fic I published on this site and I told myself I'd see it through to a proper ending. Don't worry, I have an ending planned but it won't happen for a while.**

**You've probably noticed the spring cleaning I've been doing for this fic. Well, consider it a little gift from me to you, my loves. Though, at least two of the chapters I left as they were, because of how dialogue heavy they were. I might go back and fix them up when I have time.**

**In the meantime, go enjoy some of my other fics. I know you'll love them. Some characters from my other fics might be making cameos in a few of the upcoming chapters. Ahh! What fun!**

**So, it's good to be back, my doves! Let me know how I did and give me some delicious, delicious feedback. Read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	25. To Err Is Reaver

_Reaver's Servants_

To Err Is Reaver

The cold winter air was coming in from the mountains and the night was settling in. The town criers were shouting about the upcoming early snow fall and it had the residents of Millfields up in arms. Servants from each manor, including Lakeview Manor, were running about preparing for the snow.

Since everyone was busy making sure everything was inside and everything was closed up tightly, no one noticed a certain rogue make his way from Lakeview Manor with a chair, a bottle of wine, and a small bag. Reaver made it perfectly clear to Barry that he didn't want to be bothered and refused Barry's help when he asked if Reaver wanted him to carry the chair. Barry was taken aback when Reaver refused his offer and just left the house without anything else said.

Reaver dragged his chair past the gates to Lakeview, ignoring the guard's offer to carry the chair for him. He dragged it along the dirt path; ignoring the snickers of the nobles he passed by. Reaver dragged this elegant chair up the hill, over the rickety bridge and into the vacant woods where the old gypsy camp used to be.

Having cleared out the bandits, Reaver felt it was safe to perch his chair against a tree and have a nice sit. If not for the trees, he might have been able to get a good view of Hero Hill. He used to do this little ritual there until the hill started to crumble. So, he felt this clearing where the Gypsy camp used to be would suffice. After taking off his hat (out of respect, apparently), Reaver reached into his small bag and pulled out a wine glass and bottle opener. "I've been saving this for a special occasion." He murmured, pouring the wine into the glass.

"Maybe in my years on this wretched planet, I've been too hasty. Not that I regret it." Reaver crossed his legs and listened to the last of the crickets chirp. "But I find it fitting to come here once every so often and say my peace to you. It's a silly ritual, and frankly I could do without it. I ask myself every few years why I do this and each time I tell myself I need to stop. And yet here I am, sitting in the middle of an abandoned camp drinking some of my finest wine while talking to ghosts."

Reaver took a deep breath and then took a long swig before refilling his wine glass. The past few days, Reaver had been preparing for this. Every few years, as he couldn't be bothered to do it each year, Reaver would sit alone in the forest above his manor and meditate on his life. He wasn't sure why, but this particular forest seemed to be peaceful. Reaver had seen a lot in his many, many, many years and reflecting took a lot of energy from him than he was willing to admit.

The servants were worried, as Reaver was more despondent than usual. Where he was usually quick to punish (such as a broken vase or a late arriving meal), Reaver simply ignored it and went about his business. When asked about it, then Reaver would get mad and it had his servants running for their very lives. So, they decided to ask Barry. Of course, Barry yielded no answers.

Barry had been working for Reaver for years, having been hired around the time Lakeview Manor was constructed. But he never truly understood why Reaver felt the need to perch himself in the woods on the nights right before the first snowfall. It was always the night before the first snowfall, even when none was announced. Reaver always knew and he was always up there.

Reaching inside the bag, Reaver pulled out four dolls and placed them on the stump in front of him. Each one looked like someone from a point in time he wished he could forget. That day was the day he was dragged into the affairs of the world. "Alright, as usual, I'll start." Reaver took a big gulp from his wine glass and gasped when he was done.

"I know I say this each year, and I still mean it: I loathe each one of you with a fiery passion not unlike an erupting volcano. The very memory of you four make me want to vomit and that would be a compliment. It took me fifty years to repress what happened and then all of a sudden I'm forced to face my bloodline again when those troublesome rebels attacked almost two years ago." Reaver held up his gloved hand and stared at it. He picked up his wine glass and poured himself some more wine.

"Garth…" Reaver started at the dark doll with the glass eye patch. "I followed you to Samarkand hoping for a treat but instead you treated me like a tourist. But I must admit, watching you work and getting on your last nerve was quite fun. I don't know if you truly died that night. I slipped out while the tavern was rioting. So, if I am not speaking to your ghost, that's just fine as well." Sighing, Reaver turned his head for a moment and then back to the dolls on the stump. "I must say, you were a terrible tour guide. The nightlife in your homeland could use some work. I actually believe you were keeping the best places to yourself. Ahh, naughty, naughty."

Reaver didn't finish this swig, but he still poured himself some more wine. "Hammer…" he murmured shifting to a doll with red hair. "Too friendly for your own good, but I must admit I admired your spunk. One of my maids, Willa, sort of reminds me of you sometimes. Strong, short tempered, but ultimately a friendly young lady. I wonder if she might be a distant relative of yours. I certainly hope not because then I'd have to do away with her. I like Little Bit too much to do that. I can't say that about many people, but I guess she's grown on me, as well as the other Circus Rejects."

Reaver put down his glass and glanced at the dolls again. "Oh, I hired some new servants. They used to work in a circus and I must admit it keeps things interesting." Reaver sighed happily and picked up his wine glass again.

The little droplet of wine swirling at the bottom made Reaver think hard about where this conversation with ghosts was going. He turned his attention to a hooded doll with what looked like silver pieces for eyes. "Theresa, you sneaky old witch." He murmured, disregarding his wine glass and taking a long swig from the wine bottle. "I have a seer amongst my servants. Though surprisingly, Rosie has more personality than you. And that's saying something, all things considered."

Taking one final swig, Reaver turned his attention to a rather elegant looking doll. When he first found this doll (or stole it after killing its original owner) it was wearing nothing but underwear. Reaver took it upon himself to dress this doll correctly. "My dear Sparrow…" Reaver murmured, saving the last little bit of his wine.

"How could I forget you? I can't, really. I've tried. I stayed in the background while you ran your kingdom, which is a feat even I admit wasn't easy. The limelight simply begs for Reaver, but you always know how to steal it away from me. All hail the Hero Monarch, Queen Sparrow! Yes, I yelled it as everyone crowned you and cheered and threw streamers and all that fun stuff I'm glad I didn't have to clean up. You were quick to thank Hammer, Garth, Theresa, and I for our help in saving this dirt pile you call a kingdom, though I didn't get to make a speech. Of all the constants in my life, you always seem to pop in and out. As a fellow Hero, as a Queen whose ass I need to kiss, but never as a friend. Rumors have it that you were quite the windfall under the bed sheets and I'm offended that you never let me prove or disprove those rumors! I think I hate you most of all."

Reaver downed the rest of his wine and stared at the dolls. All of them had happy faces which didn't change. "…but for everything I have done in my life, the only time I ever felt truly human was with all of you."

The wind blew softly through Reaver's hair. "…and I think now I'll sleep better knowing that I am still human and there are six people in my mansion that see me that way. For all my perfection and my very miniscule, practically nonexistent flaws, they accept me. I hate them for it, yet I cherish it. But let's keep that between us, shall we?"

With a wink and toss off the empty wine bottle, Reaver packed up the dolls into the sack and tied it shut. After putting his hat back on, Reaver placed the sack on the chair and started dragging it toward the bridge. To Reaver's surprise, at the end of the bridge stood Rosie, waiting for him. The winter wind blew her hair about as Reaver approached her. "What did you hear?" he hissed as he approached.

"Nothing, if it keeps me from waking up with a hole in my chest." Rosie responded in her usual dead-pan tone. Reaver nodded appreciatively and motioned for Rosie to take the chair as he walked down the hill. The snow was definitely on its way, as the overcast was pretty prominent. A few flurries flew about, but the real snow would come until late that night.

"Why were you at the bridge? I told you lot I didn't want to be followed." Reaver growled as Rosie dragged the chair with little effort.

"We were starting to get worried about you being out here all alone before the snowfall, so we all started looking for you. I felt a strong presence coming from the hill leading to Driftwood and followed it until I found you sitting in the clearing. Something told me not to go any further than the bridge, so I waited." Rosie shivered a bit as they made their way down the hill. She could see her own breath. "You've been walking around as if in a haze lately. We've all been worried about you. Miss Sarah is even making her ravioli specialty tonight in hopes it cheers you up."

Not sure of what to say, Reaver just stared at Rosie, urging her to continue. "We care about you a great deal, Mr. Reaver." Rosie shivered again as a stronger gust of wind took her by surprise.

At that moment, something took Rosie by surprise. When she looked up, she found her boss taking off his jacket and draping it around her shivering shoulders. Reaver smiled appreciatively and fastened the top button for her as she blushed. Reaver then decided to continue with the sack toward the lakefront. "I'll be expecting that jacket back, Rosie." Reaver shouted as he made his way to the lake.

As Rosie and the chair went back towards Lakeview, Reaver made his way to the lake front. He opened the sack and tossed a few rocks from nearby in. With a few powerful swings and accounting for wind resistance, Reaver tossed the sack into the slowly freezing lake. He said nothing and only waved as the sack slowly sunk, leaving a few bubbles in its wake.

Reaver turned around and made his way back to his home as the snow started to fall. In front of the manor's grand doors stood his ever loyal servants, waiting for him in a straight line. Reaver didn't have to say anything as they bowed and let him go inside first. Each servant followed closely and let the doors shut softly.

* * *

><p>Reavie mewed softly in her basket in the corner of Reaver's office as her master made his way in. The pampered kitty happily trotted to Reaver as he sat at his desk slowly. She hopped onto the desk and mewed happily as he scratched behind her ears. It was rare that Reaver not say anything, but tonight all he did was pull out his journal and fill his ink pen.<p>

"_I'm not sure who said it, but there is an old saying, 'to err is human, to forgive is divine'. I hate that saying with a passion, but I must admit there is some wisdom to it. When we are wrong, I believe we feel vulnerable. When we feel vulnerable, we tend to act as we truly are. To feel vulnerable; I hate that feeling, so I try to be as right as I can at all times. The servants usually have no problem telling me I am right, though I hear their murmurs of correction when they walk away. If they weren't so afraid of losing their jobs, or their lives for that matter, they'd probably be more straightforward with me. I like that. Servant/boss relationship status restored."_

Looking up, Reaver glanced at the coat stand near the door. His coat had been promptly returned. Reaver placed the pen to his lips and smiled softly.

"_To err is human, they say. I figured I gave up a big part of humanity long ago. Of course, my beloved circus rejects like to remind me, in their own special and somewhat demented way that I am indeed still human despite the perfection that practically oozes from my pores. Maybe I'll give them a little bonus in their next pay. Not a big one, I don't want them to think I'm giving them a raise. I'd like to give a few of them a raise, if you catch my drift, dear journal."_

Reaver chuckled softly and closed his journal. Before leaving his office, Reaver glanced outside at the snow falling gracefully over Millfields. Reaver smiled and started to make his way out of his office. The servants had long since gone to bed and the manor was quiet, save for the _tip-tip-tip_ of Reavie's paws. As Reaver made his way to his room, he felt a presence behind him. He turned around and saw nothing, but noticed Reavie stayed oddly close to him. With a soft chuckle, Reaver continued on his way.

"Good night, Sparrow. I do hope we all meet again."

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha!<strong>

**Double update time! Isn't this awesome? I don't know why, but I've been on such a gnarly inspiration kick and I just had to get these bad boys out on time!**

**Where I live, the Southern United Sates, we've had some odd climate changes. One day it can be almost eighty degrees and the next it can be thirty. Of course, it's only cold on my days off from work. Can you believe it? Well, we had a snowstorm warning not too long ago and I think the clouds on a snowy night are amazing. We didn't get snow, of course, but the clouds in the sky that evening were something else. It was eerie, which gave me the inspiration to write this little number.**

**I sometimes do my best thinking during storms. The wind blowing, the rain (or snow, given the situation) falling, and just the atmosphere can be quite entrancing. Perfect meditation time. I wrote this chapter as a reminder that we are all human and we need to remember that sometimes. So, be mindful of others and don't forget to treat others as you wish yourself to be treated.**

**To err is human, as they say. It's one of my favorite quotes. Enjoy, my doves.**

**As always, I appreciate your viewership and hope everyone is still having a good time. I plan to update this more often, but keep an eye out for my other works as well. My Portal fic, a sequel called "One Big Aperture Family" is still alive (sorry about that) and just itching to be read right now and my other Fable fic, "A Maid's Story" is still updating, although sparsely.**

**So, as always my lovelies: Read, review, and be merry. I appreciate all feedback, so let me have it! (Be gentle, lol)**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	26. The Snowball Effect

_Reaver's Servants_

The Snowball Effect

The snow fell softly over Millfields, blanketing everything from trees to houses. Bower Lake had completely frozen over and looked quite majestic with the snow covered trees lining the banks and the frozen waterfall standing guard nearby. It was early morning and the children of Millfields had already started playing on the frozen lake. The sounds of giggling echoed off the hills as the children ran about, tossing snowballs and building snowmen as their parents watched from indoors.

Along the overcast sky, smoke from chimneys could be seen with each cozy little home making Millfields look like a painting one found in a gift shop. It was almost too perfect to actually be real and it was only sun up (from what one could tell, anyway). As long as one ignored the struggled grunts of a man attempting to shovel the front walkway of Lakeview Manor, then it certainly was a perfect snow day.

"Come on, Hatch! Put your back into it!" Reaver shouted, bundled up in his fancy fur-lined leather jacket. Barry grunted loudly as he shoveled the walkway leading toward the front gate. Reaver rewrapped his scarf and took a deep breath as he carefully walked down the icy steps of his home. "Don't you just love the snow, Hatch?" Reaver asked joyously. Barry, who was still struggling to get the packed on ice and snow from under the front gate, didn't answer. "It's so invigorating and peaceful at the same time!"

The snow kept falling slowly, even as Reaver and Barry went back inside. It certainly was a lovely snow day. Inside, Beryl took Reaver's jacket and shook it off over the front porch. Barry took off his own jacket and sneezed loudly. At that point, Miss Sarah came into the foyer with a tray and two mugs.

"I figured you two would be cold, so I made some tea." Miss Sarah took the tray into the study and placed it down near Reaver's big chair. Reaver sat down and took his cup. "Is it still snowing outside, Mr. Reaver?" she asked, carefully handing a cup to Barry.

"It's still coming down a bit. I don't think it's going to let up. Miss Sarah, have Gordon pour some salt on the snow and ice near the front gate. My newspaper is buried somewhere under it and Hatch couldn't break through it to get it." Reaver lamented as he watched Barry fumble with his pipe. "Do be careful lighting that, Hatch."

As Miss Sarah left the study, Rosie walked in just as Barry sneezed. She grabbed the pipe before he could drop it and presented it to Reaver. "Mr. Reaver, I had to hang the laundry over the stoves to get them to dry, seeing as it's too cold to hang them up outside. If you find a sock in your soup later, don't panic." With a nod and an uninterested wave of his hand, Reaver left Rosie to it. Rosie bowed and left the study. Even in the snow, things were business as usual.

Reaver sat in his study as the fire crackled softly. Barry eventually brought in some things for him to look at regarding the factories and now Reaver found himself engrossed in work. The snow made it almost impossible for him to get to the factories today, so he decided to work from home. As Reaver went over certain schematics for a proposed new machine that separates bones from the body "painlessly", Reaver heard a thump on his study window. He turned around and saw nothing. He shrugged and went back to his work.

_**THUMP!**_

Reaver turned around and saw a snowball dissipating on his study window. With a huff, Reaver put his work away and got up, stomping over to the front door. He opened one of the front doors and was met by a small snowball being tossed in his face. Shaking off the snow, Reaver watched a group of children run away laughing. Gritting his teeth, Reaver went back inside. "Dirty little snow monkeys." He murmured, walking back toward the study. When a knock came at the door, Reaver decided not to wait for Barry and answered it. He opened it slowly and was met by a barrage of snowballs hitting him.

The front of Reaver's body was covered in snow. Before he could retaliate, the children ran off laughing again. Closing the door and turning around, Reaver let out a big puff of air mixed with snow. Willa, who saw the entire thing from the top of the steps, came to Reaver's aid with a towel. "Are you alright, Mr. Reaver?" she asked as the other servants piled into the foyer.

"Surely you jest, Little Bit. Because you obviously see I'm covered in cold, wet, snow!" Reaver shouted, tossing the towel back at Willa. Reaver shook the remaining snow out of his hair and went upstairs.

A little later, as Beryl was mopping up the melted snow in the foyer, Reaver descended down the stairs in his thickest white fur coat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Reaver. Watch your step, the floor is wet." Beryl chirped, getting out of Reaver's way.

Reaver ignored Beryl and simply cleared his throat. "Servants! Assembly in the foyer, _s'il vous plait_." He shouted.

As if by magic, the servants assembled in the foyer, in front of Reaver. "As you all know, it's snowing outside. Today is not a day to be cooped up inside. I've enjoyed the snow since I was a boy and I assume you all have too. Now, if you all finish your chores in a timely manner, you may join the merriment outside after lunch. Snowball fights, making snowmen, ice skating, etcetera, etcetera..." The servants looked at each other excitedly and bowed before their boss. "Hop to it, my dears! I want everything done in a timely manner! Do not skimp just to get it done sooner, I am a tough inspector as you know!"

After the chores were done, each servant ran to grab their respective coats, hats, and gloves. Reaver told them to stay in uniform, which meant the girls had to put on thicker stockings. As uncomfortable as they were, when the servants walked into the snow, they were thankful to have them on.

Reavie, being the pampered kitty that she was, could barely walk in the posh sweater and booties she was wearing. While it was Rosie's job to get her ready, Reavie never gave her a problem. Each servant had an agenda for the snow day. Miss Sarah had recently ordered a pair of ice skates when she heard snow was coming from the mountains and they had arrived a few days prior. Now, it was time to open the box.

Miss Sarah was the last one out of the manor. She presented her box and opened it to reveal brand new ice skates. "I had to special order these because the shop in town didn't have any left in my size. I can't wait to try them out!" Miss Sarah gleamed with happiness and ran toward the dock after closing the box again.

"Well, I think I might join her a little later. But first…" Reaver, putting his goggles on to shield his eyes from sun glare, filled his gloved hand with snow and patted it down. "…some naughty little children are about to find out why I am called the Hero of Skill…" Reaver chuckled evilly, leaving the front gate.

Willa and Beryl wasted no time preparing to make a snowman. Rosie sat nearby and watched. Not really one to join in such activities, Rosie still enjoyed sitting and watching the snow fall. Gordon, having been recruited with Barry to follow Reaver, found himself packing snow into snowballs. Reavie decided (in her kitty mind), to stay out of the way of Reaver's snowball war and perched herself near the maids.

"Oh, Reavie! You look so cute!" Willa squealed, picking up the cat. Reavie was wearing a thick sweater (she was a small cat, so it looked bigger than it actually was) and little booties on her feet. Reavie made it obvious she did not like these booties, but the ground was too cold for her to take them off. Her bow was made out of a thicker material, doubling as a scarf.

"_**WAAAHHH-CHOOO!"**_

Barry's sneeze could be heard for miles. "Quiet, Hatch!" Reaver shouted as the three men hid behind a snow covered wall. Reaver, not wearing his hat, peeked from their hiding spot and glared at the children playing in the snow. "Ahh, the enemy has their guard down. Gordon, how does our ammunition look?" Reaver asked.

Gordon, who had been put in charge of carrying a bucket of snowballs, looked over at their ammo and then back to Reaver. "Still snowball-like, Mr. Reaver." He answered, dryly.

"Good, good. Now, we must make this attack swift. Hand me the first snowball." Reaver held out his hand, feeling the cold wet snow through his glove. Reaver patted the snowball some more and straightened his goggles out. "Yes, build your snowman, you disgusting little waifs. For this winter belongs to Reaver…" Standing up, Reaver showed himself to the preoccupied children. "I'll teach you little heathens to throw snowballs at me!" With that, Gordon and Barry watched Reaver chase a group of children around the banks of the lake.

Barry kept a close eye on his boss as the children screamed and ran from him. "Surprisingly, not the strangest thing I've seen him do in public." Barry muttered, bringing his handkerchief close to his face. When Gordon heard Reaver call for more ammo, he carried the bucket toward Reaver's current position. Barry sat there, wanting nothing more than to sit under a blanket for the rest of the day. He looked up momentarily at the lake and saw Miss Sarah glide by on her new ice skates.

Not really paying attention to the snowball fight, Miss Sarah cascaded across the ice with a big smile on her face. She didn't know any impressive tricks, but she enjoyed ice skating either way. Some other villagers had already joined her on the ice, some skating circles around Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah looked up and waved to Barry, who sat on the stone wall near the shore. If she had been paying attention, Miss Sarah probably would have seen a couple of nobles skate out in front of her. Miss Sarah noticed them in time to swerve around and slip, falling on her bottom.

"Miss Sarah!" shouted Beryl as she and Willa finished packing a giant snowball. Beryl stood and ran for the frozen over lake. Neglecting that the ice was still somewhat wet, Beryl ran out and almost immediately lost her footing. As a seasoned contortionist, Beryl's life was all about balance; but a slippery slope always seemed to get the best of her. Leaning against the dock, Beryl regained her footing and started out for Miss Sarah again. Again, she started to slip and fell face first onto the ice.

Not wanting to see Beryl continuously hurt herself, Rosie got up from her spot and simply walked across the ice. Willa, who was having trouble balancing on the still somewhat frozen dock, made her way to Beryl and helped her up. They watched as Rosie simply walked across the ice, ignoring the traffic of skating nobles in her way. She bent down and helped Miss Sarah up, then made her way back toward the dock. Rosie sat back down in her spot near the nearly completed snowman.

"No one likes a show-off, Rosie." Willa scolded as she helped Beryl back toward the snowman. Rosie just shrugged and decided to help them make their snowman.

Reavie, having wondered off during the excitement, made her way toward the shores of the lake. Something caught her attention. A new smell in the air. She didn't like this new smell and she followed it with dedication. Some new smell has intruded on her turf and she was going to set it straight. Reavie followed the smell until she got to the bridge leading to the gazebo on the lake. Usually, she would see nobles drinking tea out there, but today it seemed empty (except for the owner of the new smell).

Her fur already frizzing up, Reavie cautiously approached the gazebo and got her claws ready. When she arrived, she looked up and down. She saw nothing out of the ordinary and decided to walk around the stone table in the middle of the gazebo. She walked the full circle and then sat down to rest. Above, she heard a soft shuffling sound. Before Reavie could react, an orange blur jumped down and faced her. This was the owner of the new smell and Reavie had found it!

In front of Reavie sat a scruffy looking orange cat, probably a little older than her. He wore nothing to protect himself from the cold, so it was obvious he was a stray. Where he came from, Reavie didn't care. She just wanted him gone.

"It's good, but it's missing something." Beryl mused as she, Willa, and Rosie finished their snowman. It was a pretty well done snowman, as far as snowmen went. It had two rocks for eyes and a carrot for a nose, along with string for a crooked smile. Willa sized up the snowman and walked around it a few times before an idea came to her. "It's naked!" she shouted. The girls glanced at the snowman and turned their heads. Beryl and Rosie nodded in agreement. "To be a proper snowman, he needs clothes. Not just regular clothes, but nice clothes. A snowman was expertly designed as this one deserves only the best. Mr. Reaver would agree if he were here helping us."

"By helping, I'm going to assume you mean watching us do all the work. But you're right, this snowman does need clothes." said Rosie, circling the snowman. As they did so, a snowball flew past them. It didn't hit any of them but it was noticeable. The girls looked in the direction the snowball came from.

With a jaunty laugh, Reaver reached for another snowball as he chased the children all over Millfields. Gordon stopped to rest against a tree. "I need to exercise more." He grumbled. He had never seen Reaver laugh so hard or enjoy the outdoors this much (except the time they went to the nudist colony). Reaver cantered up to Gordon, who gave him the ammo bucket. "We're about out, Sir. Maybe we should take a small break." Gordon said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Nonsense!" Reaver shouted. "We're just getting started!" Reaver started packing more snow into snowballs when he noticed the eerie quiet. The snow was still lightly falling and the wind could be heard. Reaver's keen hearing made him notice every rustle of the leaves and every movement by the local fauna. "Something's not right…" he murmured as he placed another snowball in his ammo bucket. Gordon noticed it as well, but kept helping his boss pack snowballs. Reaver raised his hand, indicating that Gordon stop.

Reaver ducked, leaving Gordon standing there as a barrage of hiding children descended on him with a fury of snowballs. Every angle except up, snowballs flew at Gordon. When they ran out of ammo, the children ran off, celebrating their attack. Reaver stood up again, happy he wasn't the poor sod covered head to toe in snow. Gordon shook in his spot from both cold and terror.

Barry, deciding to let Reaver wage his insane snowball war, wandered toward the manor sneezing up a storm. He wished he hadn't gotten this stupid cold so he could enjoy the snow more. Right now, the only thing that appeared remotely appealing was a big bowl of warm soup and a nice hot cup of his mother's home remedy. He finally reached the manor gates and looked down. Apparently, the salt mixture Gordon used earlier worked like a charm, as the newspaper sat there in its wet plastic.

Bending down, Barry picked it up. As he was standing back up, he felt something cold hit his behind. He shrieked in surprised and stood up straight, covering his bottom. He looked behind and found Willa, Beryl, and Rosie laughing hysterically. Ignoring his snow covered bottom and his stuffy nose, Barry snarled loudly, clenching the newspaper tight. Miss Sarah, who decided to take a break from ice skating, walked up to the group, giggling softly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hatch; you made it too easy!" Beryl laughed as Willa geared up another snowball.

Before she got a chance to throw it, Miss Sarah walked up to Barry with a concerned look. "Mr. Hatch, are you coming down with something?" she asked. Barry sneezed his response into his handkerchief, not wanting to get anyone else sick. "Girls, I'm going inside for a bit to help Mr. Hatch and to get started on dinner." Miss Sarah walked with Barry toward the front of the manor. When bent over to take off her ice skates, she felt something cold hit her behind as well. She glared back at Willa, Beryl, and Rosie, who were laughing up a storm.

When Miss Sarah and Barry finally made their way into the manor, Beryl looked over at their snowman. "He is indeed an elegant snowman." She murmured. "I bet Mr. Reaver would like him." She placed her finger on her chin and then looked over at Willa and Rosie. Rosie didn't like the "I've got an idea!" look the two were getting and followed them when they ran into the house.

The girls ran past the kitchen and up the stairs as Miss Sarah poured an odd concoction into a mug for Barry. "Here you go, Mr. Hatch. I hope I got the recipe right. I must admit, the Tabasco sauce threw me off." She chirped, sitting across from him. Miss Sarah and Barry sat at the small corner table that the servants sat at when they ate their meals. It was a simple table with two benches, nothing elegant like Reaver's grand dining room table with chairs.

Barry drank it all in one gulp. With a happy gasp, Barry put his mug down and wiped his mouth. "Just like Mother used to make." He murmured as Miss Sarah took his mug. Though she didn't know the science behind it, Barry's home remedy seemed to make everyone feel better when they felt sick (if one ignored the tuna fish flavor). Barry ignored the sounds of giggling girls running through the foyer carrying a laundry basket and he ignored the sound of the door slamming. He was too transfixed on Miss Sarah, who had gotten up to start dinner.

"These stoves feel so nice after being outside all day." Miss Sarah giggled. "Mr. Hatch, can you ice skate?" she asked, warming herself up by the stove.

Finishing the last little bit in his mug, Barry nodded. "Somewhat. Not a professional, but I do have a pair of ice skates in my closet. I haven't used them in years."

Miss Sarah turned around and beamed with joy. "After dinner, I might go out to do some more ice skating. I want to get my money's worth for those ice skates. You should join me. I'd love to have a skating partner." Miss Sarah walked off to the pantry to fetch more ingredients for dinner. Barry beamed with his own joy and poured himself some more home remedy.

Outside, Reavie glared at the orange cat. Her growls and hisses didn't seem to deter the stray. In her kitty language, Reavie decided to confront this newcomer. _"Hey, you!"_ she shouted, though most people would have heard just hisses and meows. _"You probably don't know this, but this is my territory. I'm sure you know who I am, so I'll forgive this simple mistake and let you off easy." _Reavie was indeed Reaver's cat.

The orange cat just stared at Reavie and turned his head. _"I can't say I've ever met you."_ he responded in their kitty language. He glanced at Reavie, who had a stunned look on her face (or the cat equivalent). _"I just came from the city to enjoy the snow, but I think I've decided to stay for a while. The other animals say this place is heavenly in the springtime."_

Reavie, whose fur was starting to stand on end, hissed loudly at this cat. _"I'm Reavie and I don't like your kind on my turf!"_ she hissed.

The orange cat didn't know what Reavie was getting so mad at. _"Ahh, I should have known from the odd garments you're wearing. You belong to that guy in the fancy white coat. I've heard of him."_

"_For your information, these happen to be the latest in kitty winter fashion, handpicked by Master himself! He only chooses the best! You being a lowly stray wouldn't know anything about fashion, so I'm going to ignore your remark about my sweater and give you one last warning!" _Though she didn't look imposing with a sweater, scarf-bow, and booties on, Reavie could be quite intimidating. The orange cat actually looked quite scared, but then remembered Reavie was a pampered pet and he was a stray. He probably had more experience dodging attacks than she had making them.

Laughing softly (or the cat equivalent of such an action), the orange cat got up and walked past Reavie. _"If it interests you, my name is Tumble and I usually stay in the market near the fish stall. But after hearing about Millfields, I decided to take a look. I think fish caught fresh from here would be quite delicious."_

"_I don't care what your name is; you will not touch these fish!" _Reavie hopped up and down, obviously getting upset.

"_The ice hasn't thawed and you're claiming fish that haven't even hatched yet."_ The orange cat, Tumble, slowly walked away, leaving Reavie in her puffed up angry state. _"You know, I think I should tell you the other reason I came here. I heard from the other strays in town of a pretty female who wore these cute bows and lived in the manor by the lake. I wanted to see her for myself and maybe spend some time with her."_

Reavie gushed a bit and her fur softened a bit. She twirled her tail around as if hiding herself behind a fan. _"Well, now…"_

"_If you find her, tell her a cat named Tumble is looking for her…"_

With that, Reavie lost her cool and started chasing Tumble. Tumble had to admit that Reavie was fast for someone weighed down by booties, a scarf, and a kitty sweater. It was a good thing no one (besides Barry for certain reasons) couldn't understand kitty language, because the people would blush at the things Reavie shouted at Tumble as she chased him along the banks of the river.

Ignoring the soft running and shuffling sounds coming from the bushes, Reaver and Gordon decided to stake out the snow fort the children had made near another dock. "Alright, Gordon, it seems they are taking a juice break. But be on your guard, they will strike at any moment."

Gordon, arms crossed, just sighed. "Mr. Reaver, are you at all aware that we've been out here in the freezing cold for hours waging a snowball war against children?" he asked, glancing down at the bucket of snowballs and then back to his boss.

"And enemy is an enemy!" Reaver announced, turning back to Gordon. "Now, place the decoy!"

Gordon sighed and walked over to a scarecrow he had picked from the fields. He propped it up and dressed it in an old coat, ratty gloves, and one of Reaver's discarded hats. The children looked up from their juice and saw the decoy placed on a hill nearby. They readied their ammo and started for it.

"Now, we take them by surprise and end this and get some cocoa!" Reaver shouted happily. Moving slowly, Reaver and Gordon marched toward the decoy with their ammo ready. Gordon was ready for this pointless "war" to be over and just carried the bucket. They approached silently (or as silently as one could in snow) a found their targets. "Got you, you dirty little…" it was then Reaver noticed the children were themselves decoys. Snowmen made in haste. "…wait, how did…"

Reaver didn't get to finish his sentence. All Millfields heard was screaming from Gordon and the sounds of snow being pelting against a body.

"Finished!" shouted Willa as she, Beryl, and Rosie stood back to admire their handy work. Rosie grinned and nodded. The snowman was dressed in Reaver's clothes (from the laundry basket) and looked very regal standing near the dock.

Beryl traced a mouth on the snowman's face. "Now, it's finished."

Rosie, scratching her chin, stood behind the snowman and moved him about. "You call that a snowman? Little Bit, that snowman is much too plump to be me!" said Rosie, in her best Reaver imitation. "Why, the bottom is much too big! Are you insinuating the marvelous Reaver has a big butt?"

Beryl and Willa laughed loudly. "Let me try!" shouted Beryl as she took Rosie's place behind the snowman. "Beryl! Where is that lazy girl? She had better be up here to dust my study or I'll bend her into a pretzel myself! Beryl, shine my shoes! See if dinner is ready! Sort my papers! Mop up that mess, make another mess, and mop it up again! Tell me I'm not a self-serving ass!"

Willa, when she finished laughing, decided to give it a try. "Rosie! You made my bed too perfect! Mess it up and make it again! Tell me a fortune and then make so it doesn't come true if I don't like it! Find Hatch and tell him to back his behind into my study so I can yell at him for no reason whatsoever! I need someone to scream at! Where is Miss Sarah with my lunch? Find Gordon and tell him to tend to the garden topless today!"

As the girls laughed loudly, they noticed a weird slushing sound coming their way. Looking up, they saw Reaver and Gordon drag themselves toward the manor. Both of them were wet from the snowball barrage and looking pretty miserable. "I need a change of clothes, a bowl of hot soup, and a warm bath. Though not particularly in that order…" Reaver moaned as the girls came to help him. He looked over at the snowman that made itself at home looking over the lake and then at the girls. "That looks nothing like me!"

The evening settled in and the snow had stopped. More was on the way, but for now Millfields was quiet. As the sun set, Reavie chased Tumble all the way to the manor. Both cats exhausted from the chase, they stopped by the steps and glared at each other. _"You're nothing but a mongrel! When Master sees you, he'll be mad!"_ Reavie mewed.

"_You know, the other cats were right. You are cute."_ Tumble teased.

"_Other cats?"_ Reavie asked.

"_Yep; other cats. There are plenty of them that stalk around Millfields. They don't see you much except through the windows of the big house, but they say you're pretty cute. I didn't see it at first, but now I do. You're pretty cute when you get all puffed up and mad." _Tumble cantered over to Reavie and rubbed his cheek against hers. Reavie wanted to be mad, but she found herself getting used to Tumble's scent. _"If you ever want to get away from this big drafty house and 'Master' for a bit, I'm thinking about setting up a home in a nearby tree. There's a knothole in a nearby tree that some crows abandoned."_

Reavie, finding herself less puffy, purred softly. She shook herself out of her trance and turned her head away. _"I have better things to do than hang around in a filthy tree!" _she huffed, throwing her head in the air and walking toward the manor door. Tumble sat there and waved his tail about. _"…but if you ever want to spruce it up a bit, I think I can let you have some of my old, less fashionable ribbons. Even if it is a hole in a tree, it should still look like a proper home."_

Tumble smugly glanced at Reavie. _"I think I'd prefer to stay warm than fashionable."_ He mewed.

Tumble was taken by surprised when Reavie, using her teeth, unwrapped her own scarf and laid it down in between them. _"Even a filthy stray like you doesn't deserve to freeze." _Before Reavie knew it, Tumble rubbed his cheek against hers again. Reavie even welcomed it when Tumble licked her cheek (kitty kissing) as a shadow loomed over the two.

"YOU FILTHY MONGREL! GET AWAY FROM MY REAVIE!" Reaver shouted, taking out his gun. Tumble screeched loudly and grabbed Reavie's scarf with his teeth as Reaver fired toward him. Tumble jumped into the bushes and ran off to parts unknown, with Reavie's scarf waving like a war flag. Reavie looked off into the distance longingly.

Reaver, now in a dry set of clothes and more groomed, picked up Reavie and brushed the snow off of her. "There, there, _Mon chéri. _That filthy beast won't bother you anymore. It's a good thing I bought you two scarves, or else you'd freeze because of that ugly little stray fur ball. Come along, Miss Sarah has a nice warm saucer of milk ready for you." Reaver cooed, holding Reavie over his shoulder.

_That Night_

With wet clothes hanging over the stove and everyone drinking hot cocoa, Lakeview Manor seemed the ideal place to warm up after a day of play in the snow. Reaver sat in his study as Barry brought him his wine. "Hatch, did Miss Sarah make those cookies yet?" Reaver asked, finally reading his newspaper.

"Yes, they're cooling on the counter right now. Why did you ask her do make cookies, Master Reaver?" Barry asked, pouring the wine.

Reaver chuckled and stood up, placing his newspaper down. He urged Barry to follow him. They walked into the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was finishing dinner. She didn't get a chance to say anything when Reaver picked up the plate of cookies and took them to the foyer. "You see, Hatch; sometimes the best plans are covert. In which I mean you have to take your enemies by surprise. Gain their trust…" Reaver put on a light jacket and his boots and went outside. "…and it makes the attack much easier."

Making sure no one was around, Reaver brushed off a garden table and had Barry put it just outside the front gate. He placed the platter of cookies on it and closed the gates. Making a loud whistling sound with two fingers and his mouth, Reaver then grabbed Barry by the sleeve and they hid in a nearby bush. After a few minutes, the children of Millfields cautiously approached the snacks. They made sure the coast was clear and started to eat the warm cookies, still celebrating their earlier victory.

"SURPRISE!" Reaver shouted, kicking a nearby tree. The tree shook and down fell the snow that had piled onto the tree onto the children, burying them underneath. Barry, shocked, looked at the pile of snow and wiggling children as Reaver laughed. "I'll have Gordon come dig them out later but right now…" Reaver laughed until his sides hurt, needing Barry to help him back in.

After dinner (and after hearing Reaver yell about finding a stocking in his soup), Barry dug through his closet and pulled out a dusty box. He opened it and smiled, carrying it under his arm and grabbing his coat off his coast stand. He waited until he heard Reaver's office door close and made his way downstairs. He opened the front door and put his coat on. As Barry reached the last button, he saw what he came outside for. Miss Sarah, having decided to get in some more skating before the lake melted, glided seamlessly across the ice.

Meeting her at the dock, Barry waved Miss Sarah down. "You decided to join me!" Miss Sarah said excitedly. "All of you!" Barry looked behind and saw the other servants holding up their ice skates. While he was hoping to skate alone with Miss Sarah, Barry just shrugged.

While the other servants stayed near Lakeview's dock, Miss Sarah skated toward the other end of the lake. The half-moon reflected nicely on the frozen lake and Miss Sarah stopped where she was to admire it. Barry soon joined her, having escaped a rather scary game of "Ice-Tag" with the other servants. Miss Sarah turned to Barry and smiled, skating beside him in the reflection of the moon.

* * *

><p>Reavie stared out the office window longingly. Reaver told the servants he'd join them for night time skating as soon as he was done in his office. Reavie pawed at the window and mewed softly. "Don't worry, Reavie. I don't think that stray will bother you any longer. In fact, if he does, I promise I won't miss next time."<p>

Those words shot through Reavie and made her shiver. Reavie may not have liked Tumble, but not even he deserved to incur Reaver's wrath. Thinking she was cold, Reaver picked up Reavie and set her down near his desk. He took out his journal and filled his ink pen.

"_It certainly was a productive day, my dearest journal! Why, it snowed! Ahh, I am absolutely giddy! It's a good thing this journal is private or else I'd never live this day down. I would have had more fun had the Circus Rejects actually helped me in my snowball war against those little cretins from nearby. Why anyone would bother breeding and making children is beyond me. I loathe children, but they make for good target practice. Gordon was a good help, though I can't say the same for Hatch. He sneezed all over everything! I have no idea what is in that 'home remedy' of his, but it seems to do the trick as he was up and about within a few hours."_

Reaver tapped his pen against the journal and looked over in the corner of the office. He had placed his ice skates there earlier before he got distracted by the snowball fight. He placed his pen on his lips and went back to writing after refilling it.

"_My servants enjoyed the snow. Usually, I don't care what makes them happy but I didn't want to enjoy this snow day by myself. It's starting to get colder and the town crier said there is more snow coming tomorrow. I don't plan on spending it outside. First snow is special. Everything after that is just a mild inconvenience to shovel up. Speaking of which, I should probably have Gordon dig those children out from under that snow drift. The last thing I need right now is a bunch of noble parents bellyaching to me about their children getting frostbite on my property. The servants are probably outside ice skating. It might be snowing tomorrow, but the weather will definitely be warmer, meaning the lake will start to thaw. I should go take advantage of that."_

Reaver closed his journal and left the office with his ice skates in hand. Reavie stayed inside, having had enough of the snow. She did watch from the foyer windows as servants and master enjoyed skating around on the ice in the clear moonlit night. Reavie watched Barry and Miss Sarah, who skated separately on the other side of the lake together. Reavie sighed (or the cat equivalent) and looked around. Something near the gates caught her attention. Stuck on one of the bushes was her scarf. Reavie mewed softly, happy and mad that Tumble was still around.

"_You got off easy this time, you stray. But this is still my turf, and if you think Master is bad…" _Reavie unsheathed her claws and glared out the window. _"…then you don't know me that well…"_

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha! Whoooo! What a chapter, am I right? I just went everywhere with this one!<strong>

**A few days ago, my part of the world got a snow advisory. Of course, nothing came of it. Mostly sleet and wind, but nothing too damaging. Today, it was 70 degrees (Fahrenheit) and sunny. I don't know how to explain that one, but it is what it is.**

**It feels good to be back lurking around here. I missed the Fable area. Lots of interesting people. Love it to death. Oh! If you haven't already, go check out my other stories and also my dA account. I usually post updates and random musings there. The name is LunaPeachieWasHere and it's a hoot, I promise. I love hearing from you guys off and on both accounts, so don't be shy about dropping me a line! Oh! And don't forget to let me know how I did with a lovely review! I appreciate all reviews, but please keep it clean.**

**Get ready for some more updates from this one and my other stories. I have about three fics floating around here in the Fable section so go check them out as well. Remember, feedback, feedback, feedback!**

**As always, I appreciate your support and I hope to see more updates as inspiration and mood catch me.**

**Read, review, and of course, be merry my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	27. The Smudge

_Reaver's Servants_

The Smudge

"WILLA! BERYL! GET DOWN HERE AT ONCE!"

That shout, followed by angry tapping from a walking stick, gave the two maids a horrible cold shock through their systems. Willa and Beryl had been instructed by their boss to clean up the guest rooms (they weren't expecting anyone, Reaver just liked to have them clean just in case) but now felt that task would have to wait.

The morning had started off well enough. The weather as of late had been unfavorable, as the snow was starting to melt and rain had been in the forecast for at least a week. Though there was overcast, the day was pretty clear and the servants found relief at the prospect of leaving the manor after being cooped up for so long. The windows welcomed brief moments of sunshine every now and then, but the day stayed gloomy all the same. It wasn't until late morning that things started to get interesting.

One would think that after having a brand new portrait of himself commissioned and nearly finished, Reaver would be in a better mood. Well, he was not.

Willa and Beryl slinked from the upstairs and slowly made their way in front of their boss. Reaver stood in the middle of the foyer, leaning against his walking stick. The servants often wondered why he had a walking stick if he had no need of one. Sometimes, Reaver would chase them with it if they did something wrong and sometimes smacked their behinds with it. Barry told them it was more for fashion and crowd control than for an actual limp or anything of the sort.

When Willa and Beryl stepped in front of their boss, they could tell this wouldn't end well. Reaver didn't speak immediately. He only glanced around and then back to the two bewildered maids before him. "Ladies, what do you see here?" Reaver asked, pointing to the floor. The foyer floor was some type of marble tile that Reaver took pride in.

Not sure what he was pointing to specifically, the girls just looked at each other. "The floor, Mr. Reaver." Beryl answered simply. Reaver's chuckling at Beryl's simple answer was unsettling. Despite the chuckles, Beryl felt this wasn't the answer Reaver wanted, so she thought hard. "A checkered pattern not unlike a chess board, to be precise."

Reaver's chuckle turned into an even more unsettling guffaw that caught the attention of Rosie, who was passing through the foyer from the study and Reavie, who was napping on the piano stool near the front door. Reaver looked at Rosie, who stopped dead in her tracks. "My dear Rosie, tell me what you see here." Reaver pointed to a specific spot on the floor with his walking stick.

Rosie bent down slightly and then back up again. Straight as a pole, Rosie turned to her boss. "It looks like a smudge of dirt, Sir." She answered simply.

With an approving nod, Reaver waved Rosie away and then glared at Willa and Beryl. "Why can't you two see a deeper meaning, like Rosie?" Reaver mumbled. Willa and Beryl bent down and took a closer look. There was indeed a small smudge of dirt, barely noticeable, almost under Reaver's walking stick. "It is your duty to keep the front of the house clean and yet you let refuse stain my beautiful imported marble floors!" Reaver tapped his walking stick fiercely on the spot, making it bigger.

Huddled together and quivering, Willa and Beryl stood there in complete silence. Reaver didn't give them a chance to explain themselves. "Clean up the entire foyer again and get rid of that smudge!" With that, Reaver cantered off. Willa looked at Beryl, who only shrugged.

As the two girls examined the offending smudge, Barry saw Reaver off. "You're in charge while I'm at the factory as usual, Hatch. Make sure all the chores get done and I had better not see that smudge when I return this evening." Reaver announced, loud enough for Willa and Beryl to hear. "Tell Miss Sarah I want that salmon in the ice box for dinner tonight." Barry handed Reaver his hat and waved as he left.

Barry turned around and walked over to the two maids. Beryl adjusted her glasses and tried to see the spot better. "What do you think it is?" she asked, placing her glasses over her eyes again. Willa shrugged and stood back up. "If we knew what this stain was, we'd probably get a better idea of how to get it off."

"Mr. Hatch, do you know what this stain is?" asked Willa.

Shaking his head, Barry knelt down and cocked an eyebrow. "My eyesight isn't what it used to be, but if I had my guess I'd say it is ink mixed with mud." He answered, standing back up. Barry rubbed his chin and thought harder. "I hope it's not ink because if it is, there is no way to get it up." With that, Barry left to begin his rounds.

Barry's statement didn't give either girl hope. "It's not dark enough to be ink or mud." Beryl chirped.

"Well, whatever it is, good old soap and water should do the trick." Willa directed Beryl to a nearby closet and took out a mop bucket and a mop. "Go to the kitchen and have Miss Sarah fill up this bucket. I'll start looking for the floor cleaner."

When Beryl left, Willa started digging through the closet. Not knowing what the stain was wasn't going to stop Willa from doing her job. Every cleaning apparatus that Reaver allowed the girls to use was in the foyer closet. Bottles of cleaner, varnish, polish, and some scented oils were at Willa and Beryl's disposal on a daily basis. Reaver often thought he was giving them too much power, but Barry often assured him that two girls couldn't get into much trouble with cleaning products.

Barry has been wrong on many such occasions, most of which Reaver doesn't know about.

When Beryl returned with the water filled bucket, Willa started looking over the cleaning products. "Let's see…this stuff should work." Willa shouted excitedly. She held in her hand a bottle of yellow liquid, the label had fallen off long ago and the liquid already looked watered down. Willa poured the entire bottle into the bucket with the already soapy water. Beryl took the mop handle happily and sloshed the water around with an almost child-like joy.

With one swoop, Beryl mopped up the area of the offending smudge. Willa and Beryl looked down at the tile with renewed hope only to have it dashed. The smudge was still there, and now it was somehow a lot more noticeable. Willa cocked an eyebrow as Beryl mopped up the tile again. The smudge stayed right where it was. Beryl tried again. And again. And again. She kept trying until the mop itself was completely dry. Beryl eventually tired herself out and leaned the mop handle against nearby pillar.

"It's a stubborn stain…" Willa remarked as Beryl regained her breath. Bending down, Beryl took her thumb nail and attempted to scrape the smudge up. It did little good. It wasn't until Beryl started scrapping harder that the smudge suddenly got bigger and bigger. "Stop, stop!" shouted Willa. Beryl looked at her thumb and then at the now bigger smudge. If it wasn't noticeable before, it was now. Still not knowing what the stain was, it was now as big as Beryl's thumb.

The girls stared at the stain, horrified. It seemed to take on a life of its own. "Eww, now it's bigger!" Beryl whined.

"Rosie knows about stains. She's cleaned Mr. Reaver's unmentionables many times. Maybe she can help us." Willa insisted. Beryl nodded, stopping herself from touching the smudge any more. During the day, Rosie was usually in the basement/laundry room if it was too cold outside. Most of her laundry duties required her to personally scrub all of Reaver's clothes. She often saved it for the end of the week, so her other cleaning duties wouldn't suffer too much. Despite Reaver's clothes being expensive and of fine fabrics, it often didn't take Rosie long to do the laundry.

The door to the basement/laundry room was tucked away near the kitchen. A dark, dank corner that the servants usually stayed away from, though Rosie had no problem with the basement. For some reason, the lights from the rest of the house never fully reached the corner where the door to the basement was. Beryl gulped loudly and followed behind Willa. "Well, here we are. The door to the basement is right ahead. In that dark corner where Mr. Reaver refuses to put more lights."

Willa summoned all her courage and reached for the doorknob. Before she could turn it, it started turning on its own. Willa and Beryl screamed loudly, falling backwards in fear. From the basement emerged Rosie, holding a basket full of wet clothes. Rosie herself was quite scary, but mostly harmless. "What are you two screaming about?" she asked, holding the basket close. The two didn't answer, so Rosie just shrugged and kept walking.

"Wait, Rosie!" Beryl shouted, picking herself up. Rosie stopped and turned around slowly. "That weird stain on the floor from earlier, do you know what it is?"

"We figured we've have a better chance of getting it up if we knew what it was." Willa picked herself up as well and straightened herself out. "Mr. Hatch thinks its ink and mud, but it's not dark enough to either one. We tried using soap and water, but that only made it worse. We figured since you deal with mysterious stains on a regular basis, maybe you'd know."

Rosie, not offended by the truth, placed her laundry basket down and followed Willa and Beryl back to the smudge. It was bigger than she remembered thanks to Beryl's thumb scrubbing, but it gave her more to work with than just a spot. Taking a close look, Rosie examined the spot and cocked an eyebrow. "I've worked with odd stains before, but this one is new." She murmured, standing up. "It kind of looks like soy sauce mixed with ground up seasoning."

All three girls got the same idea. "Miss Sarah!" they shouted, heading toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Miss Sarah was busying herself washing dishes. It was too early for lunch and the breakfast dishes still needed to be done. "How can one man make such a mess on one plate?" she asked, holding up Reaver's breakfast plate hopelessly. She submerged the plate again and kept scrubbing. She turned around slowly when the kitchen doors burst open. Miss Sarah turned around and grabbed a nearby towel to wipe her soapy arms off. "Oh, hello girls. What do you need?" she asked.

"Miss Sarah, can you help us with something?" asked Beryl, yanking Miss Sarah away from her dishes. Before she could respond, Miss Sarah found herself being tugged toward the foyer. Rosie pointed to the smudge the moment Miss Sarah was out of the kitchen. "Can you tell us how to get soy sauce off a tile floor?" Beryl asked again.

Miss Sarah knelt down and scratched her chin. "That's not soy sauce. It can't be." She mused, standing back up. "I haven't used soy sauce in a recipe since that sushi incident a month back. Mr. Reaver banned it from the house, remember? Did you try the soap and water Beryl came into the kitchen for earlier?"

The girls nodded in unison. Miss Sarah took the point of her shoe and rubbed it against the stain. It soon got bigger, to her and the others amazement. Miss Sarah looked closer and nodded. "Well, it's nothing from my kitchen, I can promise you that. From the looks of it, I'd say it's probably paint. Whatever it is, it's a recent stain. Why else would it still smear like that?"

With that, Miss Sarah went back to the kitchen. Beryl folded her arms as Rosie left to hang up the laundry outside. "Who around here paints?" she asked.

Willa leaned against the stair banister and thought for a moment. "Mr. Reaver recently had a painting commissioned, remember?" Willa shouted. "The artist came back to touch it up last night. Maybe the artist dropped some paint on the way out this morning! But it doesn't explain why it's still fresh."

"That might be because of the soap and water we used earlier. But in any case, the artist's stuff is still in the guest room, maybe there is some paint remover in there." With that, Beryl and Willa ran upstairs. The guest rooms shared the same wing as Reaver's room, Barry's room, and Reaver's office. The guest room was still covered in tarps and had paint equipment everywhere. "Alright, somewhere in here there has to be paint remover or some kind of cleaning agent for paint."

Beryl reached into a box and picked up the first thing she found. "All-purpose paint remover right here." Beryl shouted happily. "According to the label, it also strips varnish off wood and tastes good in salads."

"They weren't kidding when they said all-purpose." Willa laughed. "I'd rather not test the salad dressing theory, though. Let's get that stain cleaned up before Mr. Reaver gets home." The girls ran downstairs with the little glass container, happy that their mission was almost done. But it was terror that hit them like a ton of bricks when they came downstairs.

In the middle of the foyer sat Reavie, as happy as can be, covered from tails to ears in whatever the odd stain was. She mewed happily in that spot. Oddly, the rest of the foyer was still clean, but the tile with the smudge now had kitty pints and the smudge was much bigger. Willa and Beryl shrieked loudly. From one smudge came a plague of cat prints.

"REAVIE!" Willa and Beryl shouted together. "BAD KITTY!"

Rosie didn't seem to mind giving Reavie a bath. Reavie, despite being a cat, liked baths. "So, you've deduced the stain to be paint?" Rosie asked, scrubbing Reavie deep into her fur. Willa and Beryl nodded softly. "You'll need more paint remover/varnish stripper/salad dressing than that. I already used half a bottle on Reavie." Rosie leaned back as Reavie shook the suds off and waited for more scrubbing. "There might be some in the garden shed out back. I know Gordon uses some kind of chemical mixture to clean the tough stains out of the flower pots."

The girls left the house, looking defeated. "Miss Sarah will be calling us in for lunch soon. We've wasted almost half a day on one stain and we still have our other chores to do." Beryl whined.

Not one to admit defeat, Willa scratched her cheek and thought for a moment. "We started with a small smudge and now we a big blotch! It wasn't ink, it wasn't soy sauce, it's most likely paint, and our only can of paint remover has been used to wash the cat. If Gordon has something in the garden shed that we can use, maybe this day hasn't been a waste."

"Maybe if we used paint thinner, it will help get the stain up." Beryl chirped.

Willa shook her head. "I heard Mr. Reaver talking to that painter who did his latest portrait. Paint thinner damages marble. I don't think Mr. Reaver wants to have the entire floor redone, which is why he's making us clean it. This is one mean stain."

Beryl nodded. The girls looked around the garden but didn't see Gordon anywhere. They decided to just look through the garden shed themselves. When they reached the garden shed, they started digging through all the equipment. They couldn't find anything that matched Rosie's description of Gordon's special mixture.

"Maybe we can paint over the stain." Willa chirped. "But the thing is we don't have time to paint tile that Reavie messed up or for the paint to dry. Besides, I don't think that artist has any paint matching the tiles. We just need something a little stronger." That last word gave Willa and Beryl an idea. Grabbing what they could from the garden shed, the two ran back inside and found their mop bucket. "I have an idea, but I think we will need to keep the front door open so the fumes don't kill us." shouted Willa, her arms full of random cleaning agents.

Grabbing everything from the closet, Willa instructed Beryl to refill the mop bucket with clean water. "Alright, let's get to work." After opening the front doors, Willa found another bucket and started combining the cleaning agents from the closet and the chemicals found in the garden shed. The fumes were making Willa dizzy and she had to stop every so often to take another big breath of fresh air. When Beryl returned with the fresh warm mop water, the fumes fogged up her glasses.

"Willa, what is…?" Beryl put the mop bucket down and leaned against the stairs. "Woooohhh…" she moaned, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. "I haven't gotten a head rush like that since the ice cream cart at our old circus broke down and we had to eat the ice cream before it melted."

Willa fanned the fumes from her face and stood up to the best of her abilities. "Tell me about it. I still can't look at peppermint ice cream the same way. But we need to get this stain up and soon!"

Beryl put the mop into the bucket of chemicals and slushed it around. She pulled the mop up and noticed the mop head was gone. The end where the mop head used to be now had an ominous green glow and it was creeping its way toward the top of the handle. Beryl tossed the now useless stick down and gave Willa a worried look. "I don't think this is such a good idea, Willa. Liquid isn't supposed to glow like that. Or make such a weird humming sound." She chirped.

"We don't have any other choice!" Willa went to the closet and found another mop. "We'll just have to be quick." After the mixture stopped glowing, Willa dipped the new mop into the mixture and started mopping the spot of the stain. Beryl's eyes widened. The stain was gone. The girls celebrated and started putting their equipment away as Barry came downstairs.

"What is that…?" Barry didn't get to finish his sentence. When he stepped on the tile where the offending stain used to be, Barry's foot went right through the tile. With a yelp, Barry tripped and fell. Barry stood up and straightened himself out. To his and the girls' horror, the stain was gone, but now so was the entire marble tile. Whatever the mixture was, it ate through the marble tile as if it were nothing. Now instead of a stain, there was a hole. Barry looked down at the hole and then at Willa and Beryl.

Barry looked like he couldn't even speak. "Wha…" was all that was coming out of his mouth. "What…did you two do?!" he shouted, after regaining his composure. "How did you two go from a smudge on the floor to a hole in less than one afternoon?!"

"We couldn't get the stain up by normal means, so we…mixed all our cleaning products together…" Willa chirped.

Trying not to panic, Barry rubbed his head and turned his attention back to the hole. "Master Reaver is going to blame me for this, somehow. I knew I should have stayed down here to supervise you two. Alright, I have a plan but you two are taking full responsibility for this if Master Reaver finds out. I'm not biting the bullet for you two this time."

Agreeing with Barry, the two girls followed him back outside. "When Master Reaver first had the marble floors put in, there were some tiles left over since he miscalculated and ordered too many. Since they were so expensive, he didn't want to throw them out. The thing about marble is that it cracks like any other tile. So, I kept the extras in the garden shed just in case we needed to replace one."

"I didn't see any marble tiles earlier." Beryl insisted.

"They are in a trunk, along with some other odds and ends." Barry answered. Barry had the girls wait outside the garden shed as we went inside. He came back out with a fresh new tile. Barry was nice enough to carry it inside for them and help them set it in place. "Hopefully, he won't notice. I suggest polishing the rest of the foyer so they all match."

Barry decided to stay and watch them this time. He sat on the middle stair and watched as Willa and Beryl polished and waxed the entire foyer over and over again. Miss Sarah brought him a sandwich when the first coat was dry. After a few hours of polishing and buffing, the foyer glistened majestically. The shine was immaculate and Barry was even able to fix his hair in the reflection.

"Never…" Barry glared at the girls. "Do…that…again…"

With that, Barry left Willa and Beryl in the foyer. The two looked at each other and sighed. They didn't have much time to get the rest of their chores done.

When night time came, Willa and Beryl had just finished their chores. Reaver had returned home not long after that. Willa and Beryl nervously held each other has Reaver inspected the spot where the smudge would have been. Willa knew they were caught. The smell from their cleaning mixture was still somewhat present in the house and took most of the afternoon to air out. Reaver didn't ask why the front door and all the windows were open when he came home.

Reavie pawed at the tile as if she was digging, but Reaver shooed her away. After his inspection, Reaver stood up and straightened himself out. He turned to Willa and Beryl and smiled. "Girls, I am a gentleman first and foremost and I can admit when I was wrong. I can, but I won't. You two did well and I shall be adding a small bonus to your next pay."

Willa and Beryl practically melted when Reaver left the foyer. Barry walked up behind them and grinded his fists into their heads. "Don't do that again." He growled, following Reaver into the study.

Sitting on the middle stair, the two maids seemed pretty relieved that their nightmare was over. "We dodge a bullet, Willa." Beryl sighed, straightening her glasses. "We could have lost more than our jobs today if Mr. Hatch hadn't come to our rescue. What did you do with the rest of the cleaning mixture?"

"I paid the kid on the waste removal wagon to take it as far away from here as possible. Half of my pay is gone, but it's worth it to make sure this never sees the light of day again." Willa, obviously exhausted, got up from her spot and started up the stairs. Beryl was getting up just as Miss Sarah was passing by the stairs with a tray of tea.

The girls had their backs turned, but they heard it all. The hollow sound of marble being walked on, the sound of crashing, and Miss Sarah's yelp as she fell through the floor. The entire front of the manor shook. Willa and Beryl turned around slowly and shrieked in terror. The cleaning agent apparently ate through more than the tile, as the entire foyer floor under the tiles was completely gone. Miss Sarah wasn't skinny, but she was by no means fat enough to make an entire floor collapse. The girls figured that the rest of the floor finally gave way.

Willa and Beryl wasted no time walking around the hole and running out the front door. Reaver and the other servants heard and felt the commotion and ran into the foyer. Over Miss Sarah's soft moans of pain and soft whimpers for help, Reaver fumed and clenched his fists.

"…WILLA! BERYL…!"

Willa and Beryl were already passed the guard's booth when all of Millfields awoke to the sound of Reaver screaming for the two.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**Don't worry, I promise Reaver will go easy on them haha.  
><strong>

**I know it's been a few months since I've updated anything, and I wish to apologize for that. I've had a few issues going on that needed my attention and all of my projects have taken a back seat because of it. If you've read my profile, the reasons are listed there. I know I said a week and it's been… *looks at watch* three months, but I promise this won't happen again.**

**Luna Peachie loves you all and wouldn't just leave you hanging like that. Not on purpose, anyway lol.**

**So, what did you guys think? Was it worth the wait? I hope so, I know a lot of you guys are getting pretty impatient, and as a thank you, I want to let you guys know a little secret: The next chapter is going to start a series of events that's going to lead the very last chapter of this story. The ending is still a while off (a very long time, I have a lot of ideas I want to push out before I officially end this story). But if you guys pay close attention, you'll figure out something big.**

**So, how did I do? Was it worth the wait? I hope so. Let me know how I did in the review thingy and don't forget to add me to your watch over at deviantArt. That's where I post my updates and odd little musings. The name is LunaPeachieWasHere. **

**Oh! And I now have a Steam account as well! If anyone wants the name, just let me know and we can be friends on Steam! See what games I'm planning, who I'm Portal 2 co-oping with, stalk me...wait, no don't do that last part lol but I am always available for a chat if you just want to wax poetic haha.  
><strong>

**And now, with this chapter, on the very first fic I ever post on this site, I officially declare my hiatus over. *fanfare and streamers***

**Read, review, and be merry! Oh, and don't forget to take a break every now and then.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	28. Breaking the Routine

_Reaver's Servants_

Breaking the Routine

"_Froggy went a courting and he did ride…sword and pistol by his side…"_

Miss Sarah often sang when she made breakfast. It was one of the things that made the mornings in Lakeview Manor complete. She wasn't much of a singer any other time. She couldn't explain it, but when she was alone in the mornings, fixing breakfast, she had a lyrical voice. In any other given situation, her singing sounded like a dog howling at the moon. She often believed it was because the peacefulness of the mornings or how happy cooking made her gave her the ability to sing.

"_He rode 'till he came to Miss Mousie's door…where he had been many times before…"_

Tapping her heels to make a tune as she beat some eggs in a bowl, Miss Sarah almost caught herself in a jig. The sun was shining in the foyer through the windows. Spring was upon the people of Albion and the birds outside seemed to sing along with Miss Sarah. It seemed that way when Barry came down the stairs to fetch Reaver's breakfast. Miss Sarah had left the doors to the kitchen open so she could get some of the sunlight from the foyer in the kitchen.

Barry stopped on the bottom step when he heard Miss Sarah hum. He closed his eyes and took in the smell of fresh toast and the sizzle of bacon frying. Something about spring made the house glisten, even when there was no sun out. Barry knew that soon the other servants would be down for breakfast and then Reaver would be up and about; after that, chores. He had very little time to see Miss Sarah in the mornings, but he cherished every second.

"_Miss Mousie came a-trippin' down…in glass slippers an' a golden gown…"_

Barry straightened himself up, checking himself in his reflection in one of the windows, and started for the kitchen. He tried to keep himself from doing a jig just as Miss Sarah kept singing.

"_He took Miss Mouse upon his knee…and said, 'Miss Mouse, will you marry me?'"_

Coughing softly, Barry got Miss Sarah's attention. Miss Sarah looked surprised and jumped a little. "Oh, Mr. Hatch! You scared me." She giggled as she finished mixing the eggs. "Mr. Reaver's breakfast will be on its way up soon. Some of the eggs spoiled because this new-fangled ice box Mr. Reaver bought needs to be fixed."

"I'll have a repairman in here this evening, Miss Sarah." Barry assured her as he sat on a tall stool on the other side of the cutting counter. Miss Sarah smiled and nodded her thank you and went back to making breakfast. Her humming made Barry smile. Everything about her made Barry smile, from her soft humming to the way she tapped her feet along to her own beat. It was like she came in with the spring and the sunshine just followed close behind.

Miss Sarah finished making breakfast and prepared her boss's plate. "Oh, I love spring." She sighed and placed the plate on the silver platter. "Mr. Hatch, did you know in a few short weeks it will be the one year anniversary of Mr. Reaver hiring us?"

Barry picked up the platter after Miss Sarah finished putting a pot of coffee and an empty cup with breakfast. Barry blinked and balanced the tray. "Oh, I didn't realize!" Barry shouted as Miss Sarah walked with him to the stairs. "I guess I've gotten so used to meeting you in the kitchen every morning and seeing everyone around during the day that I plum forgot. You all have made yourselves quite at home here, it seems like you have always been here."

Going up the stairs, Barry passed by the other servants as they made their rounds. Willa and Beryl were sweeping the dining room and Gordon passed by carrying his equipment. Reaver had recently purchased some new flower bushes and for the last few days, Gordon had been up to his ears in dirt, mulch, and flower pots. Willa and Beryl, having just a few weeks ago dodged the very worst of Reaver's moods with the marble tile incident, seemed to be happy falling back into good graces with their boss.

It seemed like every morning that Barry almost ran into Rosie when heading into Reaver's bedroom. It was Rosie's job to oversee Reaver's room which included waking Reaver up, doing his laundry, letting out the linens, making sure the room was tidy, and getting the cat ready in the morning. Rosie had a big basket of laundry in her arms, just barely missing Barry as she opened the door and left for the laundry room. Barry smiled at the routine and made his presence known. "Breakfast is here, Master Reaver." Barry announced.

Reaver waved his hand dismissively. Rosie had apparently already brought the paper up. Reaver muttered under his breath and turned the page. He glanced down at Reavie, who decided to join him on the bed this morning. She had her own bed in the corner of Reaver's room, but she enjoyed the rare moments Reaver let her on the bed with him.

"You'd think with all the time people waste complaining, they'd find a way to solve their own problems." Reaver muttered as he turned the page again. He rubbed Reavie behind her ears with his free hand and went back to reading the article. Barry only nodded and poured Reaver his coffee. Reavie jumped down as Barry set up the breakfast tray and placed it in his boss's lap. Reaver handed Barry the paper and began eating his breakfast. "Ahh, Miss Sarah did it again! Delicious as usual. What that woman lacks in singing ability she makes up for with this magic she produces. How is a woman like her not married?"

Barry swallowed deeply and took out Reaver's schedule book, opening it to that day. "Alright Master Reaver, you have a busy day. You're due at the factory this afternoon and you've got a few appointments with some investors after lunch. After that, there are some new inventions that need your approval down at one of the testing warehouses. Before I forget, what would you like me to tell Miss Sarah to make for supper?"

Taking his schedule book, Reaver laughed softly and closed it again. "You've always kept my schedule clutter free, Hatch. I commend you. How long have you been working for me? Much longer than the circus rejects, I know that. Years it seems now, Hatch, that I hired you and you've still kept me from falling over myself despite how many times I've…" Reaver cleared his throat and decided not to say anything more. The very thought of Reaver being anything but perfect was a sensitive issue for both master and servant. "Well, either way, I commend you, Hatch."

Deciding it was time for him to start his day, Reaver got up and stretched his legs as far as they would go. He scratched his side and waited for Barry to lay out his clothes. "You know, Master; in a few weeks it will be a year since the others came to work here." Barry mentioned as he brushed Reaver's coat with his hand.

"Well, I suppose you're right." Reaver picked up his schedule book and turned it to the very beginning. "Yes, I remember. I bought a new schedule book the day before they were hired. Well, I shall congratulate them later on not getting shot this long. I honestly think they've grown on me. I have a feeling they'll be here for a long, long time. Like you, Hatch."

Barry said nothing as Reaver got dressed. His thoughts went to what Reaver just said and started to wonder why it hit him so hard. Barry had been working for Reaver for years now. Every morning he woke Reaver up, helped him get dressed, kept his schedule, and took charge of the manor while he was away. Barry didn't mind routine. He loved it, actually. He'd prefer routine to countless surprises. But as he watched his boss finish dressing, Barry wondered if this was really what he was meant for.

Sighing softly, Barry followed Reaver out of the bedroom and toward the foyer. As per routine, the servants were waiting to see their boss off. "Hatch, I have a big job for you to do today while I'm out. I need you to not only pack at least three days' worth of clothing and have them ready for me, along with my carriage; I need you to arrange passage for me on the next train leaving Bowerstone for the mountains. I'll be leaving on a business related trip this evening. Can I trust you and the circus rejects not to burn down the house while I'm gone?"

"Yes, Master Reaver." The servants (including Barry) said in unison.

Reaver smiled and took a walking stick from the umbrella holder by the door. "Alright, my doves, you know the routine. Hatch is in charge while I'm gone. I want all of your chores done by the time I get back and I don't want you all slacking while I'm away on business. I'll only be gone for three days, so no wild parties…at least not until I get back." Reaver laughed.

When Reaver finally left, the servants departed to do their various chores. Miss Sarah stayed by Barry for a minute or so. "Well, I'd better start cleaning up the kitchen." She murmured softly. Miss Sarah made her way back to the kitchen slowly. Barry didn't take his eyes off her. He wanted to say something, but his mind kept going back to what Reaver had said earlier.

"What am I doing with my life?" he whispered as the doors to the kitchen shut softly. Miss Sarah kept the doors closed while she was cleaning so no one would bother her. She made exceptions for Barry and Reaver, but everyone else knew not to bother Miss Sarah while she was tending to the kitchen. Barry wondered if Miss Sarah noticed the routine as well. She probably did, seeing as she had her own routine and liked to stick to it. Any deviation from the routine made Miss Sarah anxious, though she usually got over it quickly.

Barry walked back upstairs, passing by Willa and Beryl as they straightened up the dining room. They said their hellos to Barry, but he didn't acknowledge them. When they left to clean the rest of the house, Barry sat in his chair at the dining room table and stared at the flower vase centerpiece. "I've been Reaver's assistant for years. Every morning I see that he gets up and every day I see that the manor is kept. I shoo away his one night stands and keep his schedule. He hasn't fired me, or killed me. Well, if I don't count the balverine incident. But why do I feel so…unfulfilled?"

After a minute of staring at the tablecloth, Barry found a glass of scotch being placed in front of him. He looked up and saw Gordon standing over him, filling another glass and then placing it beside Barry's. "Are you alright, Mr. Hatch?" he asked, placing the top back on the crystal scotch bottle and putting it on the table. "You look like you could use a drink. I doubt Mr. Reaver will notice if some of his scotch is missing. Between you and me; I take a few nips every now and then and he has yet to notice."

Gordon and Barry shared a chuckle. Barry invited Gordon to sit with him. "Your secret is safe with me. But if you want the good stuff, Reaver keeps it hidden in his bottom desk drawer." Barry smiled a bittersweet smile and just stared at the glass.

"I don't usually see you sitting here contemplating life, Mr. Hatch. Of course, with all the work Mr. Reaver has given me to do in the garden since spring started, I'm barely in the house at all." Gordon watched as Barry picked up the glass and took a quick swig. "I'm going to assume this is a problem not even Miss Sarah's wise words can solve."

Barry sighed and looked at Gordon. "Gordon, when you worked in the circus, did it make you happy?"

Gordon seemed taken aback by the question. "One doesn't climb high ledges, swing from great heights, or walk tightropes unless they find it enjoyable, Mr. Hatch." He chuckled. "But even when you love something, it can get tiresome. Sometimes even a new routine can't even keep your passion alive for something. Luckily the circus traveled a lot which gave me some down time to rethink everything and by the time we set up in a new town, I was feeling much better."

"I've been keeping Master Reaver's life on schedule for years. As much as one can, anyway." Barry sighed and leaned back. "But he is the Master of this house. I don't think I've ever been the master of my own domain, just the keeper."

Nodding, Gordon took a swig of his scotch and thought for a moment. "What did you do before you came into Mr. Reaver's service?" Gordon asked.

Barry shrugged. "Odd jobs, mostly. I was a boxer for a while. I would have made it to the big leagues if I hadn't been clocked in the head too many times. My right eye is still a little blurrier than the left. But that's not a life, Gordon. I felt it would eventually kill me so I decided to leave that world behind. I thought to myself, 'Hatch, find yourself a decent job and a wife and settle down.'" Barry took another quick swig. "I found my passion for accountancy being a city clerk's assistant out in Oakfield, but after a few scandals that I'm not at liberty to talk about, I'm no longer allowed within a mile of the town limits."

Gordon's eyes widened. He wanted to know more, but at the same time, he didn't. Barry finished his glass of looked up at the ceiling. "Like I'm the first man in a farming village to get drunk and ride a cow through the town hall wearing only their underpants and a milk bucket for a hat…"

Clearing his throat and desperately wanting the change the subject, Gordon poured Barry and himself some more scotch. Barry looked at Gordon with a sad look in his mismatched eyes. "Then after a few odd jobs, I found myself in Reaver's employ as his assistant/attendant and that's been my life ever since. I've been happy with it until recently…"

"It sounds like you're having something of an existential crisis." Gordon leaned back in his chair. "What do you think brought this about?"

"I know exactly was brought this about. This morning, Master Reaver said he believed you all will be here a long time. Just like me." Barry focused on his empty glass. "The pay is good and when you don't cross him, Master Reaver is a decent enough boss, but I just don't feel like it's for me anymore…" Barry got up and started to leave the dining room. "I'd better go pack Master's luggage before it gets too late…"

Gordon took the scotch glasses and took them to the kitchen. While he knew he and the other servants were fine with working for Reaver for a long time (considering the working conditions were somehow better than when they worked with the circus), Gordon knew an unfulfilled soul when he saw one. Miss Sarah, who was happy with her place in the kitchen among the food and cutlery, hummed her song as Gordon placed the glasses on the cutting table.

"_Keeno Ki-mo Komo Key, way down yonder in a hollow tree,_

_An owl, a bat, an' a bumble bee,_

_King Kong Kitchie-Kitchie Ki-Me-O…"_

Gordon smiled and leaned against the cut table. Miss Sarah turned around and greeted Gordon with a surprise. She laughed and smiled when she saw him. "Oh! Hello there, Gordon. How goes the gardening?" Miss Sarah asked, taking the glasses from the cutting table.

"It goes well. I just got done talking to Mr. Hatch. I'm a little concerned." Gordon got right to the point.

"Is he coming down with something? Should I make soup for lunch? I told him he needed to be careful around the beginning of spring, what with all that pollen flying around." Miss Sarah started for her good pot but felt Gordon's gaze stop her. "He's not sick, is he?" she asked sadly. "I've noticed his mind seems to be everywhere but his work lately."

Gordon nodded. "He's having one of those 'existential crises' and he's questioning whether or not he wants to keep working here with Mr. Reaver…or us."

Miss Sarah looked at Gordon like a deer caught in a bright light. "Is Mr. Hatch thinking about quitting?" she gasped softly. The very thought of not having Barry around to greet her in the mornings or having their tea together in the afternoons with the other servants made Miss Sarah's heart ache. Lately, Barry had been joining her on their weekly night off. He'd been brushing off playing poker in lieu of going with Miss Sarah to the bookstore or to the café or to her weekly "Hollows and Hobbes" meeting, or anywhere her little heart desired.

Waving the thought away, Gordon shook his head. "I don't think he's quitting, but I don't doubt the thought has crossed his mind. He said he feels unfulfilled. I think he's just been spending too much time in the manor lately. Spring is here; he should go outside and get some fresh air."

Miss Sarah thought for a minute and smiled brightly when an idea came to her. "I was going to go into town to run some errands, I'll ask him to come with me. I bet he'd like that and I'd enjoy the company. A little change in the routine can do wonders." Miss Sarah put down her cooking pot and walked out of the kitchen with a big smile.

She made her way upstairs and toward her boss's room. Miss Sarah saw the door ajar and knocked on it softly. Barry opened it slowly a welcomed Miss Sarah in. "Hello, Miss Sarah. I was just packing Master Reaver's luggage. He leaves tonight." Barry sighed and went back to what he was doing.

"Mr. Hatch, you seem a bit down lately. We've all been stuck inside this manor and now that spring is here it seems like a waste to just lie around while the sun is shining." Miss Sarah watched as Barry finished packing the last suitcase. "Mr. Hatch, I have some errands to run in Bowerstone, would you like to come with me?"

Barry shot up and looked at Miss Sarah with a smile. "I'd…" Barry cleared his throat and fixed his shirt. "I'd love to, Miss Sarah."

Miss Sarah gave Barry her sunniest smile. "Great! I'll go get my purse and I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes."

Wasting no time, Barry left Reaver's room and ran to his own. After fixing himself up, Barry made his way downstairs and found Miss Sarah going over a list. She held a basket on her elbow that moved along with her arm as she pointed to things on her list. "Tomatoes, celery, onions, carrots, maybe a head of lettuce…" she murmured softly. Miss Sarah looked up and smiled when she saw Barry come down the stairs. "Ready to go, Mr. Hatch?" she asked.

"Ready when you are, Miss Sarah." Barry tried his hardest not to make a goofy smile as he walked over to the front doors and opened then. The spring day was as beautiful as they had hoped it would be. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping. The sound of children laughing and playing by the lake was another indication of spring, though the water was still too cold for swimming. Barry was starting to feel better already, even though they had barely passed by the guard's hut on the hill.

Gordon stood by the front gate, watching the two. He wiped the sweat from his brow and made his way back to the garden. He found Rosie sitting on a stone bench, taking a break. All the laundry was hanging and now she was waiting for it to dry. "I saw you talking with Mr. Hatch earlier." Rosie mentioned as Gordon went back to planting the flower bushes. "I can feel sadness in him. He seems a bit out of sorts."

Gordon folded his arms and nodded. "He's having something of an existential crisis. I guess Miss Sarah figured a day out in the city would do him some good. I hope it does, I don't want him moping around the garden in a depressive state. They always come to the garden."

Rosie left the garden for a moment and went to the gate, as if being guided by something else entirely. She just stood there and watched as Barry and Miss Sarah disappeared from sight. Her eyes started to glow and her knees became weak. Rosie fell to the ground, grasping her head. Gordon, who had watched from the garden gate, ran to Rosie and helped her back up a when her eyes stopped glowing. Rosie moaned and rubbed her forehead. "That was a big prediction. I think I need to sit down…" she murmured softly.

"You haven't had a prediction in a while, at least not one that big. Are you alright?" Gordon asked, helping Rosie back to the garden.

Sitting down, Rosie rubbed her head. "I think…" Rosie shook her head and smiled at Gordon. "I've been practicing secretly every night before bed and I think I finally have them under control." Rosie smiled a small grin and rubbed her head. "I have to speak with Mr. Hatch when he gets back."

_In Bowerstone_

Miss Sarah seemed to be lost in her own tune, despite the sounds of spring around her. Music was often playing in Bowerstone, no matter what season it was. Spring time just meant more minstrels were dancing about, singing and trying to make easy coin.

"_Without my Uncle Rat's consent…no, I would not marry the president…_

_Old Rat laughed 'til he shook his sides…to think Miss Mousie would be a bride…"_

Barry sighed happily, despite how he was feeling earlier. He always felt at ease whenever he was around Miss Sarah. "What a beautiful day!" Miss Sarah exclaimed as they walked past the town gates. "The streets are filled with happy people and the day is ready to be seized!" Barry wasn't sure what made Miss Sarah so happy all the time. He wasn't complaining, of course. Her smile was a good distraction from his feelings of fulfillment that he'd be having lately. Spring time was a big season for Bowerstone, as well. The vendors had fresh wares and there was light music in the air.

Miss Sarah seemed a lot happier out in the town. "It's not that I don't like living at the manor, but I enjoy towns to such an isolated spot in the country." She mentioned as she pulled out her list. "Towns are filled with such interesting people, everything is close by, and you don't have to worry about ducks."

"Ducks?" Barry asked, wanting to know more.

"I don't like ducks." Miss Sarah said softly. "I don't mind seeing them in the water outside the manor or making them for dinner, but up close and alive…" Miss Sarah shivered a bit. "They scare me."

Barry chuckled and stayed close. "Don't worry, Miss Sarah; Barry Hatch will protect you from those ducks." He laughed. Miss Sarah smiled at his light teasing and looked at her list again. She led them toward a vegetable vendor. "Sometimes, right before the summer starts, swans will appear in the lake." Barry mentioned as Miss Sarah picked up a tomato.

"Swans I can handle." Miss Sarah squeezed a few tomatoes softly and placed them in her basket. Reaver usually gave Miss Sarah a very generous food budget to work with, but Miss Sarah still liked to look for sales at the stalls. If the need called for it, Miss Sarah would have certain foods (like meats, fish, and other foods you can't readily buy in the market) delivered to the manor, but she preferred to shop for the vegetables personally. At least until Gordon's garden started growing. "I wonder why there aren't that many farms out in Millfields." She wondered, paying the vendor for the veggies.

Barry folded his arms. "There used to be, until Master Reaver bought up a lot of the land out there. Property values skyrocketed when he had Lakeview built." Barry offered to carry Miss Sarah's basket while they continued to shop the stalls.

Miss Sarah nodded and walked over to a fruit vendor. "I'm thinking about making a strawberry cake tonight for dessert. I haven't had that in a long time. I bet Mr. Reaver would like it." Miss Sarah wandered toward the fruits and looked at each one discriminately. Her scrutiny when it came to the foods she cooked was legendary and even the faintest hint of a bruise would cause Miss Sarah to reject the food item in question. While the vendor's sign said "The Freshest Foods in Albion", Miss Sarah decided to take that challenge.

The people of Bowerstone seemed happy, at least to Barry. He heard Miss Sarah murmur about apples and how nice the blueberries looked, but his focus remained on the townsfolk. Everyone seemed so happy to just walk along the streets, stopping to browse the shops, and eat at the cafés. Barry started to look a little jealous.

"Mr. Hatch, I need the basket." Miss Sarah chirped. Barry shook himself from his day dream and gave the basket back to Miss Sarah. The basket was starting to get heavy, so Barry decided to carry it for a while as Miss Sarah shopped. Barry didn't know how Miss Sarah could be so happy. As if she could read his mind, she answered his question. "I know it seems trivial, but I find grocery shopping quite relaxing and therapeutic." She said after a long silence.

"You do this a lot, though. Hasn't it become routine?" Barry asked.

Miss Sarah nodded. "Yes, it has. But routine isn't bad. I enjoy the routine we have around the manor. In a home that big with a boss that specific, routine is good to have." Miss Sarah smiled and led Barry toward a fabric stall. "Rosie has to mend some of Mr. Reaver's clothes and I told her I'd pick up some fabric and thread today. He likes silk, but between you and me, the regular cotton fabric works much better. It's a lot more durable and a better fabric for the hotter weather. She's been using it for months and so far, Mr. Reaver hasn't noticed."

Barry started chuckling. "You all have found ways around that manor, haven't you?" he asked with a laugh. Miss Sarah nodded happily and put her index finger to her lips with a wink. Barry got the idea quickly and made a zipping motion with his fingers over his mouth. "I'm afraid to ask what else you all get away with around there." He laughed. Barry felt his stomach rumble and he rubbed it softly. "Are you hungry, Miss Sarah?"

Miss Sarah nodded. "We can get something to eat after I pick up some fabric. I have a dress design I'm working on in my spare time and I need from more fabric as well."

After Miss Sarah bought her fabric, she and Barry found their way to another food vendor. This one sold sandwiches. After getting their lunch, Barry and Miss Sarah sat on a bench and ate together happily. Even eating simple sandwiches made Miss Sarah happy. She hummed softly and tapped her foot to the beat of a nearby traveling band. Someone was gearing up their fiddle to play, and a drum was being tuned. Miss Sarah tapped her foot along with the drum.

"_Oh, what would the wedding supper be?_

_Two butter beans and a black-eyed pea…_

_What more would the wedding supper be?_

_Buttercups and dewdrop tea…"_

"Miss Sarah, can I ask you something?" Barry asked, putting his sandwich down. Miss Sarah stopping humming her song and nodded while biting into her sandwich. "Lately, I've felt like I'm in a rut of some kind. I used to get such joy out of my job but it wasn't until this morning that I realized…"

Miss Sarah looked at Barry inquisitively. "…that you're not happy?" she asked. Barry nodded, looking guilty. "Mr. Hatch, everyone gets into these ruts every now and then. Even I do. Sometimes, you just need to mix it up a bit. For example, I used chili powder in that tomato soup Mr. Reaver had for supper the other day. Not much, just enough to give it a nice bit of zing. He seemed to like it and I found a new way to make tomato soup."

Biting into her sandwich, Miss Sarah saw Barry just stare at her. "Granted, it was a little change, but still it's something."

"This morning, Master Reaver said he believes we'll all be at the manor forever. It got me thinking…maybe I don't want to be there forever." Barry sighed and sat back, no longer wanting his sandwich. "I've planned his days for years and I used to get joy from it. But now, I feel like I'm falling into the inevitable."

Hearing Barry sigh made Miss Sarah sad. "Maybe you've grown so used to being a part of someone else's routine, that it's become your own."

Barry's eyes widened. "You think I've become so used to planning out Master Reaver's days and nights that I've become a part of his routine and I don't have my own?" he asked.

Miss Sarah shrugged. "I guess for lack of a better way of saying it, yes. Mr. Hatch, when was the last time you planned something for yourself? Have you ever sat down and plotted out your own day without Mr. Reaver or someone else in mind? When was the last time you told yourself you were going to read a book or have tea in the garden or go for a swim in the lake without having to see if it was alright with Mr. Reaver first? In the short time we've been working together, you've kept the manor on a strict schedule but I don't think I've actually seen you do something for yourself. It seems even those poker nights on our nights off are scheduled. Breaking from routine can be scary, I know. But sometimes, whether we want to or not, we have to take off our shoes and walk barefoot. What I mean to say is: we can spend the rest of our lives doing what others tell us and going by their time clocks, or we can throw caution to the wind and take time into our own hands. I'm sorry if that sounded harsh, Mr. Hatch."

Shaking his head, Barry finally felt something hit him. "No, it's exactly what I needed to hear, Miss Sarah. I know what I need to do."

Miss Sarah was starting to regret giving Barry that advice. She knew it wouldn't be fair to give him bad advice. "Are you going to quit, Mr. Hatch?" Miss Sarah asked sadly. Barry just stared at Miss Sarah; he didn't know the answer himself. Miss Sarah sighed and placed her hands on her lap. "I think we'd all be sad to see you go, Mr. Hatch." She chirped, trying to hide her blushing cheeks. "I know I would hate to see you leave. I enjoy our morning talks when you come into the kitchen to get Mr. Reaver's breakfast and I know the others appreciate your help when it comes to dealing with Mr. Reaver."

Barry seemed taken aback when Miss Sarah put her hand on his gently. "You'd be missed, Mr. Hatch." She chirped. Barry blushed and smiled softly. Miss Sarah scooted closer to Barry, ignoring her basket and her sandwich. Barry and Miss Sarah brought their faces closer to each other, their foreheads touching. Miss Sarah blushed softly, and Barry returned it with his own blushing.

Before either could go any further, the sound of children cheering and a loud horn surprised them both. Miss Sarah jumped and nearly fell off the bench. Barry grabbed his heart and breathed heavily. Barry growled at the minstrels, playing their lutes and violins as the children danced to the beat of the drum. Miss Sarah struggled to get back up on the bench and fixed herself up. After she shook her dizziness away, she smiled wide at the dancing children. "Mr. Hatch, come dance with me!" she shouted happily.

"You go on ahead, Miss Sarah. I need to get my heart beating regular again…" Barry laughed. Miss Sarah left Barry with her purchases and skipped over to the dancing group.

He wondered how she could be so happy. Every time he saw her, she had a smile on her face. Miss Sarah just seemed to light up a room no matter what. Even when she was mad (which happened more often than one would guess), Miss Sarah still somehow saw the bright side of things. Even their boss's perverted antics or pranks by the other servants didn't seem to upset Miss Sarah much. A frown never lasted long on Miss Sarah's face before she would start laughing with everyone else.

"_First came in was a silver moth…spread her wings for a table cloth._

_Next came in was a bumble bee…played a little banjo on her knee._

_Next came in was the old grey goose…picked up his fiddle and he cut loose!_

_Next came in were two little ants…they stood up and had a dance!"_

Miss Sarah danced happily with the children in the square. While most of the adults stared and even clapped her on, Barry started thinking. Miss Sarah did have a point earlier. Barry gathered up Miss Sarah's purchases and stood up. He had a feeling the song was ending, so he decided to wait for Miss Sarah. As he waited, something in a nearby shop window caught his eye. Something about this particular item seemed to be calling to Barry. Before he could move any closer, Miss Sarah grabbed his arm.

"It's getting late, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah chirped softly. Barry nodded and walked with Miss Sarah toward the bridge. He kept looking back, trying not to show Miss Sarah that he was distracted. Barry kept both eyes on Miss Sarah as they left Bowerstone to the music of the minstrels.

_Back at Lakeview_

"_Oh what a feast, what a wedding day…_

_They left for the honeymoon right away…_

_Now they live in a hollow tree…_

_Where they have good health and children three!"_

Miss Sarah chopped her veggies to the tune as the other servants got the dining room ready. Noting that Barry was in better spirits, Gordon felt a wave of relief come over him when he saw Barry's smile. It even persisted when Reaver came home later that night, announcing that his business trip had been called off. While this didn't surprise most of the servants (they had just heard about it that morning), Barry was the one who had to unpack Reaver's luggage. Dinner that night was some kind of elaborate fruit and veggie salad requested by Reaver.

Barry always ate dinner with Reaver. It was something they always did. Reaver would go on about his day and Barry would pretend to listen. As Reaver rambled on about how his investors were idiots and the likelihood of a guard coming by to question him about the shooting of a potential business partner among the evening's events, Barry just picked at his food.

Barry's mind went back to Gordon's advice as well as Miss Sarah's. Mostly Miss Sarah's, though. The thought of his own routine seemed exciting, but he didn't let anyone else know that.

After dinner, Reaver decided to take his dessert outside, so he could enjoy the night air. When it was time to clear the table, Barry found himself alone again. He took the dishes to the kitchen, though he found Miss Sarah oddly absent. He guessed she was outside with Reaver and the other servants, serving tea and dessert. Barry didn't think too much of it and started for the foyer. He stopped just at the doorway and found Rosie standing in the middle of the foyer.

"Oh, Hello there, Rosie. How are you doing?" Barry asked.

Rosie said nothing. She walked up to him and gave him a piece of paper. "Mr. Hatch…" she said after a long silence. "…I had a prediction today and it involves you and Miss Sarah. Please, whatever you do, don't let Miss Sarah or anyone else see that. My predictions always made her nervous, even good ones. You're good at handling things around here, so I trust you with this. Be mindful, though. Now that you know what will come, you have a greater chance of changing it. I suggest going against Gordon and Miss Sarah's advice when it comes to this."

With that, Rosie walked away without another word. Barry opened the piece of paper and read it. His eyes widened and he ran to the front door, which was open. Barry stood in the doorway and read the piece of paper again. He smiled and looked up at Miss Sarah, who was serving tea. He smiled at the very last line and read it to himself.

"…you will both be happy…"

_The Next Day, In Bowerstone_

Through the window of a particular store, if one looked over the shiny bobbles and other glistening items, one could see the clerk at the register nodding to a request being made. The lady had a big smile and confirmed everything with her customer. After gold exchanged hands and the final confirmation was made, the lady told her customer that she will send him a notice when his specific order was done and ready to be picked up. She bowed as he left and thanked him for his service. The bell over the door rang as the customer left.

Barry folded up the receipt and placed it in his jacket pocket. Though it cost most of his savings, he had decided that his new "routine" would start this day. He marched away from the store with a smile on his face and a skip in his step as he made his way back to Millfields.

He had a lot to get done, but Barry didn't look worried. He whistled as he took out his schedule book and flipped a few pages. Barry took out his pen and circled a specific date. He put both his schedule book and pen away as he made his way across the bridge. Barry had a lot of planning to do.

"_Keeno Ki-mo Komo Key, way down yonder in a hollow tree,_

_An owl, a bat, an' a bumble bee,_

_King Kong Kitchie-Kitchie Ki-Me-O…"_

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my beloveds!<strong>

**Since I'm pretty sleep deprived, I'm going to keep this short. I did a lot of overtime to get this out on time but I hope to all get out that it doesn't seem rushed. If it does, let me know and I'll work my magical Luna Peachie powers to make it all better, okie?**

**Haha…oh, I haven't slept in like two days…**

**But on a nicer note, I'm feeling a lot better now that my stories are updating again. I feel pretty damn good considering. I feel like I projected a lot of my feelings from my hiatus into this chapter, what with falling into a creative rut and my personal life coming to a screeching halt. I feel a lot better now, but the rut lingers, you know? I'm glad to be back, actually. Not posting on left me with a weird empty feeling. I felt like I was letting you guys down. But I hope my newest updates will make up for that.**

**The song I used in this chapter is called "Froggy Went A-Courtin'" and it's a pretty old folk song that I enjoyed as a kid. It's been covered many times, but I used the Elizabeth Mitchell version because it's simpler and has a happier ending. Look it up on YouTube. You'll be tapping your feet to it.**

**Oh! Before I continue, I'd like to thank someone very special. On deviantArt, there is an artist going by the name of robowarrior01908. She's been nice enough to do some art of my characters, mostly Miss Sarah, and they are just so freakin' adorable! I also think she's psychic, because she's somehow predicted what is going to happen in the next chapter. But I'll get to that in a minute.**

**So, this chapter marks the beginning of the end. Not the literal end, my doves! Well, the end of the story, anyway. It's still a few chapters off, but I have a lot of fun stuff planned for you guys before I send my very first fan fic off to pasture. So, what did Rosie write down? What does Barry have planned? You'll have to keep reading to find out!**

**Next Chapter: A lot of stuff is happening in this upcoming chapter. Visiting family and a full moon keep the servants and their boss on their toes as a legend comes back to wreak havoc on Millfields once again. Hilarity will ensue.**

**Let me know how I did in the review thingy and keep this story going!**

**Read, review, and be merry my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	29. The Red Balverine Returns

_Reaver's Servants_

The Red Balverine Returns

The smoke coming from the trains was suffocating, but nothing one couldn't wave away. Passenger trains were something relatively new, but all around very popular. Faster and somewhat safer than sea travel and much faster than caravans, trains seemed to be the wave of the future and the future was coming to Albion. There weren't many people using trains yet, as new ideas still scared people, but the ones who did use the trains could testify that it was a pleasant ride.

Barry stood on the landing, holding an open envelope with its contents open in his hand. He wasn't looking forward to this, but at the same time he was. Everyone at the manor seemed excited about the visitor they were expecting. Everyone except Barry, despite the fact that this visitor was coming to see him and he knew he should have been more excited. When Barry showed the letter to his boss when it arrived no more than three days before, Reaver seemed more excited than Barry.

Lakeview Manor was cleaned top to bottom (literally, as Willa, Beryl, and Rosie were climbing down a ladder from the roof when Barry left earlier). Reaver had Miss Sarah busy in the kitchen for the last few days, getting her best recipes in order and collecting ingredients for her ravioli specialty, which she was making that night.

Having enlisted Gordon for assistance, Barry still wasn't looking forward to this. He looked down at the letter in his hand and sighed again. Maybe it was his unease at the upcoming visit or the odd unease he had been feeling the last couple days, but Barry just couldn't get excited about this visitor. It certainly didn't help that had a recurring headache since getting the letter.

Barry readied himself when the train car opened. Gordon looked over at Barry. "You don't look excited." Gordon murmured. Barry only sighed. "I mean, of all people, I figured you'd be the happiest about our visitor today. How long are…"

"Two weeks…" Barry interrupted, fixing up his jacket. "Every year, it's always two of the longest weeks of my life." Barry sighed and kept tugging at his jacket sleeve, just to keep his mind busy. He looked up and saw the visitor in question step onto the platform. He swallowed hard, wished he hadn't quit smoking all those years ago, and hoped a bottle of rum would fall from the sky (considering he was living with a three-hundred year-old pirate and a house full of circus performers, it wasn't that unlikely) and got ready. "Well, let's get this over with."

Instructing Gordon to follow, Barry made his way through the thin crowd and forced a smile. "Mother!" he shouted with a fake smile.

The middle-aged woman Barry shouted at looked over with a smile and her arms open. "Barry! My little Barry-Bear!" the woman shouted, hugging Barry tightly. Mrs. Bernadette Hatch was about as tall and thin as her son with the same orange hair that was starting to grey, which she kept in a mid-high messy bun. She wore a simple dark brown (almost black) dress that covered her shoes. Her coat was unbuttoned, considering the weather for the day. Her fair skin had a few fading freckles on her cheeks and her lips had ruby-red lipstick draped on them.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" Mrs. Hatch hugged her son tighter. "Your letters are nice, but I do love seeing you, Barry-bear. My knitting club and that old cat can only keep me so much company before I begin to miss my only child. I do wish you'd come visit me sometime so I don't have to lug my things all the way to Bowerstone. But if that's the price I have to pay to see my darling little boy, then so be it!" Mrs. Hatch exclaimed excitedly.

Barry cleared his throat as his mother let go of him. "It's good to see you too, Mother. I'm glad your trip was a safe one." Barry smiled and looked over at Gordon, wanting to direct his mother's attention elsewhere for a change. "Mother, this is Gordon. He's the gardener at Lakeview; he's come to assist us with your luggage."

"Oh, how lovely!" Mrs. Hatch shouted, giving Gordon a big hug. "I'm glad I don't have to lug all that to the manor. Does that boss of yours know I'm coming?" she asked. Gordon noted that she didn't share Barry's speech impediment. Gordon assumed Barry must have gotten it from his father.

"Yes, Master Reaver knows you're coming. He had the guest room near his room all made up." Barry tried to sound happy, but to Gordon it was obvious he was annoyed. "Come on, the carriage is waiting."

Mrs. Hatch followed her son and Gordon to the baggage claim. The only thing Mrs. Hatch carried with her was her small purse. She opened the clasp and took out her ticket for the young man at the baggage claim. He nodded and left his desk. Gordon decided to break the silence. "So, how was your trip, Mrs. Hatch?" he asked. Barry kept his sigh low.

"Oh, it was lovely! These new-fangled trains are just wonderful! A few bumps along the way, but nothing I can't handle. I mean, I survived giving birth to Barry and that nearly killed me, I knew I would survive a bumpy railroad track." Mrs. Hatch smiled at her son, who returned it with a fake smile. "He hates me telling that story, but it's the happiest story of my life. I have plenty of stories of my Barry but I'll wait until we get to the house. Your boss loves these stories."

Barry rubbed his head. His headache was getting worse by the second. The baggage claim boy came back with his arms full of suitcases. "What did you pack? You're only staying for two weeks!" Barry asked as Gordon started picking up suitcases.

"I read in your last letter that you all had some new servants so I decided to bring presents for them all! I'll distribute them when we get to the manor. Now, where is that carriage you were going on about? We need to start loading up!" Mrs. Hatch picked up one of her suitcases and followed Gordon. Barry sighed and rubbed his head. His headache had started that morning and it wasn't stopping.

His headache kept going through the carriage ride out of Bowerstone and into Millfields. Mrs. Hatch found it necessary to talk about her long trip, her aching rear, and the slow process her medication was taking in curing her foot bunions. Barry cringed through it all.

At the manor, the other servants stood outside with their boss. They weren't sure what to expect. Reaver stood at the bottom step, his walking stick forward. Miss Sarah straightened up her apron and Willa fixed her stockings, but none of the girls knew quite what to do. Beryl was the one who broke the silence. "So, what do you think Mr. Hatch's mother looks like?" she whispered. The other girls shrugged and looked amongst each other.

"I'm sure she's a nice looking woman." Miss Sarah chirped.

"She IS Mr. Hatch's mother, so do you think she talks like Mr. Hatch?" Willa shouted.

"Or have orange-colored hair like Mr. Hatch? Or his freckles?" Beryl asked. The others shrugged and murmured to themselves.

They were all thinking it, but Rosie was the one who finally said it. "Am I the only one picturing Mr. Hatch in a dress?" Rosie blurted out, loud enough for Reaver to hear. The other girls murmured and wondered to themselves, while Reaver tried to keep his laugher down. They all watched the gate and waited anxiously.

Miss Sarah was the first one to point out the carriage coming over the hill. Reaver straightened out his vest and waited eagerly. The gates were already open, letting the carriage come in without hassle. The girls lined up and awaited their boss's command. Gordon got down from the driver's seat of the carriage and opened the door. "Welcome to Lakeview Manor, Mrs. Hatch." He announced, holding the door open for the guest of honor.

Mrs. Hatch took Gordon's hand and happily let him assist her out of the carriage. "Mother Hatch!" Reaver shouted, handing his walking stick to Willa. As Barry and Gordon got busy getting Mrs. Hatch's luggage down, the girls slowly walked up to greet their guest. Reaver seemed happier to see Mrs. Hatch than Barry did.

"Well, hello there, Reaver. You haven't aged a bit." Mrs. Hatch gave Reaver a big hug while letting Gordon and Barry take her things inside. "Imagine my surprise when I got a letter from my son saying you had acquired new servants. I hadn't received a letter from him in so long, I was sure something had happened to him, like he got kidnapped by bandits again or mauled by a balverine." Mrs. Hatch let out a soft guffaw while Reaver just chuckled uncomfortably. "But I'm glad you look after him so well. I like to hear from him when I can. So, where are these new servants my Barry-Bear keeps talking about in his letters?"

Reaver snickered a bit and stood up straight. "Servants! Front and center!" Reaver shouted. When Gordon was done taking in Mrs. Hatch's bags, he joined the others on the steps of Lakeview. Each servant was already wearing their warm weather uniform, despite the soft chilly wind coming off the lake. "Mother Hatch, these are my circus rejects."

"Circus rejects?" Mrs. Hatch asked, blinking softly.

"They used to work in a circus before coming to work for me. Now, you've already met Gordon, he's the gardener and he also has butler duties when the need arises." Reaver pointed to Gordon, who waved to Mrs. Hatch. Mrs. Hatch winked at Gordon, making him blush.

Mrs. Hatch felt immediately drawn to Willa. "Oh, they're letting you employ children again?" Mrs. Hatch asked while pinching Willa's cheeks. "This one is adorable. Oh, aren't you just the cutest little thing." Mrs. Hatch grabbed Willa's cheek and pinched it hard, causing her to groan with discomfort.

Reaver laughed and took Mrs. Hatch's hand from Willa's cheek. "No, that ban is still in effect. This is Willa, one of the maids. She's just short." Reaver watched as Willa pretended to smile and rub her cheek to get the feeling back. "She's actually quite strong. The other day, she lifted up my chair in the study to get some dust she missed. With me still in it!"

Mrs. Hatch let out an impressed "Oooohhh" and followed Reaver to the other servants. Mrs. Hatch approached Rosie with caution. "Oh my, I've never met another woman as tall as me." Mrs. Hatch compared heights with Rosie, but it was obvious Rosie was just slightly taller. "You seem like a lovely girl. What's your name, dearie?"

"My name is Rosie." Rosie answered simply. The blandness of Rosie's response didn't go over Mrs. Hatch's head. To anyone, Rosie looked quite intimidating by herself. Rosie often tried to keep an air of cool collectiveness on a daily basis. "I'm Mr. Reaver's chambermaid, as well as a regular maid." Rosie continued after a short silence. Mrs. Hatch nodded and looked over Rosie again. Rosie followed Mrs. Hatch with her eyes and kept a good eye on her.

Reaver yanked Rosie toward him as Mrs. Hatch moved on. "You had better grow a personality while she is here. I won't have you being rude to our guest." Reaver growled through his teeth before letting Rosie go. Rosie rubbed her arm and looked at Willa, who shrugged.

Beryl gave Mrs. Hatch a big smile from under her glasses. "Hello, Mrs. Hatch! I'm Beryl! Mr. Reaver told me to tend to you during your visit!" Beryl shouted enthusiastically.

"That's a pretty name, Beryl. You know, that would have been Barry's name if he had been a girl." Mrs. Hatch giggled softly and shook Beryl's hand. Beryl tried to keep her own laughter down when she and the other servants looked at Barry, who was blushing deep red. "If you don't mind me saying, those are some impressive glasses, my dear. But you seem to carry yourself well in them, and if Reaver has full confidence in you, then I have full confidence in you too."

Beryl bowed as Mrs. Hatch came to the last person in line. Though she had never seen Miss Sarah before, the way Barry described her in his letters was better than a photograph. From her dull brown hair to her hazel eyes, different uniform, and sunny smile, Mrs. Hatch knew this was the legendary cook, Miss Sarah. "You must be that new cook my Barry is always going on about. You're Sarah, aren't you?" Mrs. Hatch asked, with a certain glint in her eye.

Miss Sarah blushed and curtseyed. "Yes, I'm Sarah. I oversee all the meal preparation and kitchen upkeep in the manor. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hatch." Miss Sarah shook Mrs. Hatch's hand and returned her smile. "Mr. Reaver has instructed me to make my specialty for your first night here. It's a ravioli recipe that's been in my family for generations. It should be ready in a few hours."

"Oh, all this fuss over me!" Mrs. Hatch laughed, following Reaver and Barry.

The servants followed a little ways behind their boss. Gordon had an unsure look on his face. "So, am I the only that noticed that Mr. Reaver treats Mr. Hatch's mother better than he treats Mr. Hatch?" Gordon asked, placing his hand on his hip. The others nodded and kept a good distance from their boss.

Rosie stopped mid-step and looked behind the group. She looked around, as if trying to see the distance. Rosie wasn't sure why, but something familiar was nearby and it was giving her weird vibes. Not bad ones by any means, but weird. "Rosie?" Miss Sarah chirped as everyone else went inside. "Is everything alright?"

Trying to figure out what the familiar sense was, Rosie nodded and followed Miss Sarah.

Across the lake, a familiar face was leaving a noble's home. His blonde hair caught the gentle breeze and flowed with it. The man was dressed for combat, and rightly so. His greatest foe to date had eluded him many times, but this time he vowed it would be the last. It took months of doing research, following leads (some dead ends), and going over every book available on the subject, even ones that only barely mentioned it. But Ben Finn was not a quitter.

"Are you sure you have it this time, Mr. Finn?" asked the Noblewoman, crossing her arms. She was noticeably worried, and rightfully so. All the nobles (save for Reaver, though that was no surprise) were scared of the same monster, and they wanted it gone. "We've sent wave after wave of hunter after that thing but each one comes back dead or with a limb missing; most of the time, both. I know those monsters are more intelligent than we give them credit for. But so far, they've been able to eradicate the foul things."

Ben chuckled and waved the Noblewoman's worries away. "Don't you worry about a thing, Ma'am. That beast eluded me before, but it's not going to happen again. This 'Red Balverine' is pretty unique, but at the end of the day, he's still just a balverine. He's a tricky one and right smart too. But I do believe that this will be the last time he makes a fool out of any of us. If Benjamin Finn can't catch this thing, then no one can. Intelligent as they may be, they are still animals and every animal can be taken down. It just comes down to how."

The Noblewoman nodded her thanks and closed the door. Almost everyone in Millfields was backing Ben with a lot of money. He took out his map from his rucksack and circled a certain area. "Alright, you damn monster. We've done this dance before and you made me and the good people of Millfields look like fools. But I promise you…" Ben but the map away and placed his hand on his trusty rifle. It had a few notches in the handle. "…this is the last time you make a fool out of Ben Finn. This time, I won't miss."

Ben walked from the Noblewoman's house and decided to set up camp nearby. He sniffed the air and looked to his right. Not too far away was Lakeview Manor. Ben had been there before. It was the closest house to Silverpines (an area known for Balverines) and it was also home to Rosie, the fortune teller he had a brief liaison with a long while ago. Ben wouldn't admit that he still somewhat carried a flame for Rosie, mostly because she was the only one of his former lovers that didn't come brandishing a paternity lawsuit or a frying pan (maybe, depending on her mood) at the sight of him.

"I'm sure the inhabitants of Lakeview would hate to be kept uninformed of the matter at hand, being so close to Silverpines." Ben reasoned before he took his rucksack off. "Maybe I can convince that fop, Reaver, to let me stay on the property. It would give me a better viewpoint of the region…and of Rosie. And if Miss Sarah just happens to cook some extra pancakes in the morning and wants me to eat them so I have enough energy to do my work, it would be ungentlemanly of me to refuse such generosity." Ben decided to chance it and threw his pack over his shoulder.

Inside Lakeview Manor, the smell of delicious homemade ravioli filled the house with a savory aroma that was unmatched. Miss Sarah kept the kitchen doors closed when she made ravioli. The servants were akin to flies whenever she made it. The sauce was made from the freshest ingredients down to the tiniest speck of oregano. The ravioli morsels were packed with the finest cheese Reaver afforded for the food budget, and now she was mixing the finely chopped beef into the sauce. Reaver liked his sauce a little meaty (Miss Sarah had to reframe from giggling whenever she remembered that).

The servants stood at the kitchen door, their mouths salivating to the smell of the sauce cooking. Reaver, along with Mrs. Hatch, descended down the stairs. They were following the smell as well. "Get away from that door, you vultures!" Reaver shouted, shooing the servants away. The servants scattered, though they stayed near. "Mother Hatch, while your son gets your things unpacked, I thought I'd show you where that delicious smell was coming from."

Mrs. Hatch smiled as Reaver opened then kitchen doors wide. The smell of delicious food overcame the two of them. "Miss Sarah, how is dinner coming along?" Reaver asked.

Her back to her boss and the guest, Miss Sarah turned her head slightly. "It's almost ready. I'm about to take it out and put another layer of sauce on before it finishes." Miss Sarah went back to chopping vegetables for the side salad. Mrs. Hatch made her way around the counter and watched Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah didn't like it when people got close to her when she was chopping. It made her very nervous and it made her chopping sloppy. "Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Hatch?" Miss Sarah asked, steadying her hand.

"Oh, no thank you, my dear. Barry sings praises about your cooking in his letters and I wanted to see the master at work." Mrs. Hatch smiled as she said that. Miss Sarah, who wasn't adverse to flattery, returned Mrs. Hatch's smile. "Want kind of sauce did you use for the ravioli?" Mrs. Hatch asked.

"It's a meat sauce recipe that's been in my family for years. I've tweaked it a bit over the years to give it a more savory flavor and to counterbalance the garlic flavor." Miss Sarah took the lid off the pot she made the sauce in, letting the steam fly up. "I wanted to use cooking wine to sweeten it a bit, but the new bottle I bought vanished."

Mrs. Hatch let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I was going to wait until later, but I guess I should go ahead and give it to you now."

"Give me what, Mrs. Hatch?" Miss Sarah asked.

"Your gift, my dear. I bought everyone a gift and since Barry told me you do all the cooking, I brought some cooking wine for you." Mrs. Hatch left the kitchen for a moment and came back in a few seconds later with a small bottle of cooking wine with a ribbon around the neck. "It's from this fancy-shmancy catalogue I get in the post sometimes. I knew the moment I saw it that a cook that gets such high regard from my Barry would appreciate it."

Miss Sarah took the bottle as if being handed a gift from the gods themselves. "Is this…it can't be!" Miss Sarah looked over the bottle and hugged it. "I can't believe it. This is _Le goût du Devine_! It's the same stuff the royal chefs in Bowerstone Castle use! How did you get a hold of this? I've been on a waiting list for their smallest bottle for months!"

Reaver, who decided to stand off to the side, folded his arms and smiled happily. "I have friends in high places, my dear. My cupboard is full of them back at home. I use it in everything I make, except my morning coffee. If you'd like, I'll send you a few bottles when I get back to Brightwall. Oh, before I forget, there is another part to your gift, but I'll give it to you later, when everyone else gets theirs."

Miss Sarah looked like she was about to cry. "Thank you, Mrs. Hatch." Miss Sarah put the bottle down on the counter and started looking for a corkscrew. "Mrs. Hatch, would you like to stay and help me cook dinner?" she asked softly. Mrs. Hatch agreed and the two women shooed Reaver out of the kitchen.

He couldn't believe his eyes. Reaver knew how Miss Sarah was about cooking her ravioli specialty. It was her best recipe and rarely let anyone into the kitchen when she was making it. She sometimes let the others help her make cookies or prep ingredients for pies and really big dinners, but Miss Sarah's ravioli specialty was the toast of every party Reaver had and there were rarely leftovers whenever Miss Sarah made even the biggest batch.

Reaver smiled and looked at his pocket watch. He closed the watch when a knock came at his door. "I'm not expecting anyone else." He murmured, walking toward the door. Not bothering to wait for Barry, Reaver opened the door himself and was greeted by a very familiar blonde haired man.

"Evening, Mr. Reaver." Ben smiled. "I know you told me never to come around you or your servants again after that last balverine incident, but this time it's pretty urgent and…" Ben sniffed the air and looked around. "Is that heavenly smell…ravioli?" Ben asked.

"Yes, it is. And it's mine. Now go away…" Reaver was about to slam the door when Mrs. Hatch came from the kitchen.

"Who's at the door?" she asked, making her way from the kitchen. Ben took off his hat when Mrs. Hatch approached them. "Reaver, you didn't tell me you had a gamesman on the property. I didn't think you'd have enough room around here for one." Mrs. Hatch smiled at Ben and offered her hand to them. "I'm Mrs. Bernadette Hatch, I'm here visiting my son, Barry."

Ben cleared his throat and took Mrs. Hatch's hand. "I'm Benjamin Finn, m'lady. I'm sorry to say, but I don't work for Reaver. I'm under the employ of some of his neighbors. You see, there have been a string of balverine attacks in the area and since this house was so close to the Silverpines entrance, I'm on the hunt."

Mrs. Hatch cocked an eyebrow and moved Reaver out of the way. "The hunt for balverines? I didn't know they came out this far. I'm from Brightwall and sometimes we get packs of them in the mountains but it's too cold for them to stay long."

Nodding, Ben put his hat back on. "Not just any old balverine, ma'am. This one is known as the Red Balverine. It's larger, stronger, and a different color than your run-of-the-mill balverine. He's been terrorizing Millfields and the surrounding areas for a while now and I am being paid a lot of money to eradicate it."

"How lovely. Now, if you don't mind, dinner is almost ready." Reaver took control of the situation again and pushed Ben out of the doorway. "You can go back to whatever tree you're sleeping in and leave us alone, now."

Before Reaver could close the door, Mrs. Hatch intervened. "Now, Reaver; this young man has a job to do and I would hate to see him lose money. I'm sure sleeping in some tree can't be good for the hunt. A nice young man like this needs a good meal and a good bed to sleep in." Mrs. Hatch trailed her finger along Ben's hair, making him blush and feel hot and uncomfortable. "Why not let him stay around here until he bags that monster? I know I'll feel a lot safer knowing he's here to protect us."

Ben blushed and was starting to rethink his plan. Mrs. Hatch was a lovely middle-aged woman and though Ben preferred younger women, he had been involved with older women before. That didn't mean he had a thing for Mrs. Hatch. Ben almost swallowed his Adam's apple when Mrs. Hatch winked at him.

Reaver sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, he can stay if it puts your mind at ease, Mother Hatch." Reaver cooed. "You can stay for dinner but don't get comfortable. You can sleep in the garden shed, but don't break anything in there. I'll have Willa or Beryl bring a blanket out to you later."

Ben nodded and walked inside. He stopped before hitting the staircase when a very bad vibe came over him. Ben shook where he stood when he looked up at the top of the stairs. There stood Rosie, carrying a basket of linens. She just stood there. She didn't move. She didn't blink. She glared at him with eyes that could set damp wood on fire. A thunderclap outside caused the lights to flicker a bit, but when Ben looked up again, she was gone.

"That's odd. I heard thunder but the sun is still shining…" Reaver murmured, moving a curtain to look outside. "There isn't a cloud in the sky. Well, that certainly was odd." Reaver shrugged and walked with Mrs. Hatch to the study.

Swallowing hard, Ben followed Reaver and Mrs. Hatch into the study. "Now, as I was saying before, I wouldn't normally intrude if it wasn't urgent. The last thing I want to do is to upset you, Mr. Reaver."

"It's not my wrath I'd worry about if I were you, young man." Reaver sat down in one of his big leather chairs by the fire. "I'd offer to let you stay in the basement, but the less Rosie sees of you, the more likely it is we all wake up in the morning not inside a smoldering crater. Rosie has informed all of us of your past with her and if she is to be believed, as she is not one to lie, you can put your hands anywhere else, just not on her. I doubt my maids want to clean your melted carcass off the floor in the morning."

Mrs. Hatch took the chair across Reaver. "I'm sure whatever lover's quarrel you have with that tall, scary maid can be resolved. But you said something was urgent and it had to do with balverines."

Ben nodded, not noticing that Barry was standing in the doorway of the study. "Well, as I said, this balverine is no ordinary balverine. He is a wily one and I think he's about to get wilier. You see, the reason I'm a little more urgent this time around is because this next full moon happens to fall on a predicted mating season for balverines. Balverines are particularly active during the full moons, and if mating season and a full moon fall around the same time, then this year is going to be a doozy."

Barry, whose dirty secret was only known to him and Reaver (and their cat, Reavie), didn't want to hear what Ben had to say. But he felt compelled to listen anyway. He had been feeling odd urgings lately and he had chalked it up to the seasons changing. Barry loosened his collar and cleared his throat, bringing in the evening paper to Reaver as he always did.

"Mating season, you say?" Reaver asked, trying not to laugh.

Ben nodded again, taking off his hat as Barry handed Reaver his paper. "Yes, mating season. Those things mate only once a year, but during that time they get extremely violent. I'm talking tear each other apart, bolt the doors, end of the world violent! When the male balverines have a desired mate in their sights, there is no stopping it. There are quite a few more books than I expected written about just balverine mating habits alone. Some go into some…pretty unnecessary detail, let me tell you. You think a balverine is vicious in a regular setting, I don't want to see the poor fool that gets in between a male balverine and its desired female."

Only Reaver noticed Barry shaking nervously. "E-excuse me…" Barry hurried out of the study and toward the stairway. Reaver excused himself and left Mrs. Hatch and Ben to talk. Reaver, who didn't find this very funny anymore (okay, he did a little), stood at the bottom of the steps with Barry. Barry had his hand over his mouth, trying to keep himself calm. "I think…I need to take a few days off, Master Reaver." Barry mumbled, trying to keep his panicked expression to himself.

"Nonsense, Hatch; you have that tea to keep you calm." Reaver reassured Barry and smacked him on the back hard. "I'm sure it will keep you from doing something undesirable to a local village girl…"

Both men looked toward the kitchen doors, which stood open. Miss Sarah was at the counter, cutting more vegetables for the salad. She looked up and waved to the two before taking her big bowl of chopped vegetables to the sink to wash them. Barry blushed, knowing the same thing was on Reaver's mind.

"…or a certain cook…" Reaver made his way back to the study, leaving Barry standing there to contemplate what to do.

Dinner itself went off without a hitch. Mrs. Hatch insisted the servants eat with her, Reaver, Barry, and Ben at the grand dining table and Reaver agreed. It was pretty obvious to the servants that their boss was treating Mrs. Hatch better than he treated Barry. No one was sure why. Of course, they found Mrs. Hatch to be quite an enjoyable lady once one got passed the fact that she was indeed Barry's mother. Though everyone else was drinking wine, Barry had Miss Sarah bring him some tea.

"Here you go, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah said cheerfully as she sat the tea cup next to Barry's plate. "The tea pot is right next to the wine if you want some more. There is sugar there, too." Miss Sarah sat in the chair right next to Barry. Mrs. Hatch insisted the servants sit closer, as Reaver wanted them at the end of the table. Whatever meant they didn't have to eat dinner in the drafty kitchen corner on those wooden benches, the servants were happy with and didn't complain.

Reaver sat at the head of the table, being the master of the house. Mrs. Hatch sat in the chair left of Reaver (Reaver's right) and Barry sat across from her in his usual spot. Ben was next to Barry's mother. Miss Sarah was right next to Barry. Rosie sat next to Miss Sarah, and across from Willa and Beryl, who were next to Ben. Gordon sat next to Rosie. Rosie was silent all through dinner. Ben looked over at her a few times, but Rosie didn't look up. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the dinner, as they often did when Miss Sarah made ravioli.

"Mmmm, I must say, this dinner is delicious!" Mrs. Hatch moaned, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "Sarah, if I may say so, you've outdone yourself. I'm glad to see my son is well fed."

Miss Sarah nodded happily. "Thank you, Mrs. Hatch." She chirped, reaching for her wine glass. "It's a family recipe. The ingredients are pretty easy to remember, but I keep the recipe on an index card just to be safe. It always helps to have a reference when cooking. As Mr. Reaver often tells us: anyone who says they are completely sure about something is a liar."

Reaver nodded proudly and sipped his wine. "Everyone needs a reference now and then." He murmured.

"Mr. Finn, you were talking earlier about this being balverine mating season." Willa finally blurted out after she swallowed her food. Barry nearly choked on his piece.

Reaver looked over at Barry and could tell he was panicking. "Little Bit, I hardly think that is proper dinner table conversation. Of course, I'm one to talk." Reaver held back his laughter as he sipped his wine.

"No, it's alright. It's best that everyone know. Well, I won't get into the schematics of balverine mating behavior because that's not polite dinner conversation. But I have done extension research, and believe me when I say those books leave nothing to the imagination. But I have found out that balverines only mate once a year and even have an entire ritual behind it. Something of a mating dance to peak the lady's fancy, if you will. If the female is impressed, she will be his if there is no competition. That is rarely the case, of course."

"As with most courting…" Reaver mumbled. He set his sights on Barry, who was shaking in his seat, spilling his tea as she tried to drink it. Miss Sarah noticed and decided to pour him more tea.

Mrs. Hatch smiled and looked over at her son and Miss Sarah. Mrs. Hatch watched Miss Sarah's every movement around her son. "That reminds me; Barry, when are you going to marry a nice girl and give me some grandchildren? You need someone sturdy to keep you fed. Just look at you, skin and bones. Why, you need a woman like Sarah." she blurted out.

Miss Sarah's cheeks went red as Barry spit out his tea in surprise. Miss Sarah shot up immediately. "OH MY IS THAT MY TIMER GOING OFF I NEED TO CHECK ON DESSERT PLEASE EXCUSE ME!" Miss Sarah bolted from her chair and ran from the dining room.

"MOTHER!" Barry shouted, putting his tea cup down. "Balverine mating reminded you of THAT?!"

Reaver, who was laughing hysterically, put his napkin to his lips to keep him from sputtering his food. "It is the perfect time to speak of such things, I suppose. The subject of balverine mating does get one's feathers in a huff. I know I get pretty bothered by it." Reaver snickered, calm enough to sip his wine.

Ben cleared his throat, hoping to disperse the awkwardness. "Well, at any rate, if it is mating season, it's obvious the Red Balverine will be out looking for a mate as well. Balverines are running amok as it is during the full moon and being all hot and bothered it going to make them more aggressive. The Red Balverine will be on the hunt, in more ways than one. I believe he's hunting for a queen to help him reign over the other balverines. I don't think anyone should leave this manor tonight or any other night this week. Those balverines are going to be looking for some lovin' and I'd rather none of you become an after intercourse meal for some hot and bothered balverines. I suggest making sure all the doors and windows are shut tight and anyone proficient with a weapon should keep on the lookout."

Reaver nodded in agreement. "Yes, I agree with Mr. Finn. After dinner, I want this house locked up tight. Mr. Finn, the girls and Gordon will help you with whatever you need to set up camp outside. Keep those lusty monsters away from my beautiful home."

Nodding, Ben finished his plate and got up. Mrs. Hatch smiled and ate slowly. "He reminds me of the late Mr. Hatch." She mumbled softly. Barry choked on his tea a bit and stared at his mother. "Oh, my beloved husband, how I miss him so. My Bertram was a rough and tumble man, just like Mr. Finn. He was a good man. I miss him…"

"Mr. Finn looks nothing like my father." Barry said, straight.

Mrs. Hatch smiled and stood up. "Well, that was delicious. I shall go see where dessert is."

When Mrs. Hatch left the dining room, all the servants (and Reaver) stared at Barry. "So, Barry-bear, enjoying your mother's visit?" Willa teased. The servants had a good chuckle. "Your mom is a hoot, Mr. Hatch! I can't believe we've never met her before!"

Gordon, who had decided to remain silent through most of dinner, laughed quietly. "I must say, she's pretty active. The way you described her, I would have assumed she was close to being some kind of invalid in need of assistance. She looks like, if not for the heels, she could outrun any of us."

Sighing loudly, Barry picked up his plate and left the dining room. The servants looked toward their boss for guidance. "Mr. Reaver, why is Mr. Hatch not happy that his mother is here?" Beryl asked. "If my parents were still alive, I'd be thrilled to see them. I miss the days I'd spend helping them run my grandparent's vineyard. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if that giant vat of grapes hadn't fallen over and crushed them." Beryl sighed and sipped her wine. "Every time I see, smell, or drink wine, I think of them."

Willa sighed softly and picked at her food. "I miss Papa…I'd give anything to see him again. I wish I knew what happened to him after we left the circus."

Rosie said nothing and continued eating. Rosie never talked about her family and no one knew if she even had one. Gordon finished his plate and took up his wine glass again. "I wonder what my folks are up to nowadays. I should probably write them and see if they need anything."

Reaver looked among his servants and fixed his vest. "Mr. Hatch and his mother have a unique relationship. She is a fun woman and he's no fun at all. In a way, they complement each other. Why Hatch doesn't like having his mother around is a mystery. Maybe it's how diverse she is from her son. I don't know, but not to worry, my doves. It's a healthy mother/son relationship and bla, bla, bla…" Reaver waved his hand dismissively and stood up. "Well, this is boring. I'm going to my study. Mrs. Hatch brought gifts for us all, so after you all finish cleaning up, come to the study for dessert." Reaver left the dining room for the servants to clean up.

Trying to keep himself centered, Barry poured himself some more tea and tried to relax in the kitchen. "Your mother is a lovely woman. A bit straightforward, but otherwise she is very charming. I can see why Mr. Reaver likes her so much. All he talked about for the last week was 'Mother Hatch is coming' and now she's here. She certainly is everything I expected and a lot more." Miss Sarah chirped over the sink full of dirty dishes. "I wish my mother was half that pleasant. Of course, I haven't spoken to her in years."

Before he could take a sip, Barry looked up at Miss Sarah from his chair. "I thought I heard the other servants say your brother was your only living family." Barry murmured, putting his cup down on the saucer in front of him.

Miss Sarah sighed and put the plate she was cleaning down. "He might as well be. My parents aren't very pleasant people, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah looked like she didn't want to discuss it, but in her heart she knew she would have to eventually. "I've never told you about my family, have I?"

Barry shook his head and reached for his tea again, but Miss Sarah, in her almost hypnotized routine movements, took up the tea cup and put it in with the other dishes. Barry sighed and went to grab another tea cup from the cabinet. He poured himself some more tea and watched Miss Sarah do the dishes.

"My mother is probably the most insufferable woman you will ever meet." Miss Sarah growled, as she started scrubbing the tea cup. "My father is no better. All they ever cared about were appearances. Always at the best parties and always working, that was my mother and father. When I was born, my mother was so happy to have a daughter. Oh, all the time she spent putting me in those itchy dresses and having my hair and make-up done for those insufferable society parties, could have been better spent. My grandmother was the one that realized I had a talent for cooking. For my birthday one year, she bought me this really fancy cook book. I treasured it more than those ugly dresses my mother gave me." Miss Sarah kept scrubbing. "If not for my brother, I probably would have gone mad after my grandmother died. I'm sure they actually loved us, but they had a funny way of showing it."

Miss Sarah started piling more dishes into the sink to clean after her first sink load was done. Some dishes weren't dirty and some weren't even dishes. Before Barry could drink his tea, Miss Sarah snatched up the tea cup and the tea pot. Barry tried to protest but Miss Sarah had dropped both into the sink. "My brother Geoffrey, now there is a good man. He is the only one in our family I keep in contact with." Miss Sarah smiled and leaned against the sink. "He's the town clerk in Brightwall, your mother probably knows him. He's offered many times to let me live with him and his wife, but he knows I would rather make my own way. I do miss him, though…"

Whimpering softly, Barry tried not to show Miss Sarah had terrified he was. Miss Sarah looked down and saw her sink water turn a disgusting tea brown color. "Oh…oh, Mr. Hatch I'm so sorry!" she chirped, hastily scrubbing the tea pot and cup. "Let me make you some more." Miss Sarah walked over to the cupboard where she kept the teas and coffees. She was a little too short to reach it, so she took a stool with her. "I was a little worried when you told me to make you tea tonight when everyone else was having wine. I guess your stomach must be acting up again. Let's see…hmm, Mr. Hatch, don't be upset…"

"Why?" asked Barry.

"Well, it seems that was the last of the special tea you had me make." Miss Sarah stepped down from her stool and scooted it back to its place by the icebox. Barry didn't show Miss Sarah his wide-eyed worried expression. "I'm going into town tomorrow, I'll pick up some more."

"You can't buy it in town." Barry growled. "It was a special tea that can only be special ordered. And even then, it's expensive." Barry started to get up.

Miss Sarah tried to put on her sunniest smile. "Oh…well, you and Mr. Reaver should try more locally made teas. Do you know how much money crunching I have to do to include those fancy teas and coffees Mr. Reaver likes into the grocery budget he gives me? Why do you think I order them in bulk? I mean, what is so great about that special ordered stuff anyway? Why, I bet some of my Earl Grey tea would be just as good. I'll put some on."

Before Miss Sarah could grab the tea pot, Barry grabbed her wrist. "You honestly have no idea, do you, woman?" he semi-growled, tightening his grip.

Miss Sarah tried to yank her wrist away. "Mr. Hatch, I said I was sorry! Please let go, you're hurting me!" she whined.

Barry, realizing what he was doing, let go of Miss Sarah's wrist and looked at his hand in fright. "Oh no, Miss Sarah…I'm…" Barry staggered his words and looked at Miss Sarah again. She didn't look upset, but she had a worried look as she rubbed her wrist. Before Miss Sarah could comfort him, Barry ran from the kitchen and upstairs, bolting past the other servants. Miss Sarah left the kitchen, still rubbing her wrist and watching the stairs.

In the study, the servants gathered around the fireplace, where Mrs. Hatch sat. Reavie was on her lap and seemed to make herself right at home. "Reaver, I've never seen you as much of a pet person. I always assumed you hated animals. This little thing is so delightful. What is her name, again?"

"Reaver, Jr. is her proper name, but we've all become accustomed to calling her Reavie." Reaver answer joyfully. Reavie mewed softly and snuggled closer to Mrs. Hatch.

Mrs. Hatch giggled and sat back in the comfortable chair. "Now, as promised, I have gifts for you all. My Barry has told me all about you all, so I hope these gifts will suffice. Which reminds me, where is that son of mine?" Mrs. Hatch looked around the room at the confused faced.

Rubbing her wrist softly, Miss Sarah decided to speak up. "He wasn't feeling well, so he went to bed." Miss Sarah blushed and put her hands behind her back. "But I'll take his gift up to him if you brought one for him." Miss Sarah stepped forward as Mrs. Hatch handed her a wrapped box and then a shiny gold colored book. She assumed the book was for her. Miss Sarah put down the wrapped box and placed her hand on the book. "This looks expensive…" she murmured.

"I found that in the town's used books store. The man at the register said he found it in a trunk of old stuff he had bought at one of those property auctions. It's a pretty rare book nowadays, but he gave me a good deal on it. I knew you'd appreciate its value and the recipes inside." Mrs. Hatch turned away to hand out more gifts.

Miss Sarah left the study with the book and Barry's gift under her arm. She smiled at the old cookbook as she made her way to the kitchen. She cut a slice of the pie she made for dessert and put it on a plate with a fork. After she placed both the dessert and a cup of warm tea she had just made on a platter next to his gift, Miss Sarah put the cookbook on the counter and started for the stairs. She heard happy yelps from the study as the others got their gifts.

Though Reavie seemed happy with her new jingly mouse toy, something caught her attention. She mewed softly and ignored her toy when Willa threw it to her again. Reavie made her way to the doorway of the study and watched Miss Sarah go up the stairs. Before she could chase after her, Reaver scooped her up. "Now, now, my dear, all the fun is in here! Let's go see what else Mother Hatch has for you." Reaver cooed. Reavie mewed softly and tried to wiggle free.

The hallway was eerily silent. Miss Sarah stepped lightly toward Barry's room. She turned the handle but noticed it was locked. "Mr. Hatch?" she chirped as she knocked softly. "I'm not mad at you about earlier, so if that's why you've locked the door, it's alright. If you're sleeping, I apologize for bothering you, but your mother has a gift for you and I brought up some dessert with some tea. It's not the tea you usually drink, but I hope it makes you feel better." Miss Sara set the tray down on the table outside of Barry's room. She wanted to say more, but decided to leave it at that. She didn't know that Barry's room was empty and that his window was wide open.

Outside, Ben had finished setting up his camp in the garden and decided to do recon on the house. "Everything is quiet. I can hear the monsters in Silverpines from here. Sounds like the gettin' is good tonight for those things." Ben murmured over the sounds of howling.

Ben had set up some traps along the lakeside, hoping for an easy snag. He knew the monster wouldn't make it easy for him, but Ben was at least hoping. From his old notes, he knew the monster came for a drink by the lake and he was pretty hopeful. Miss Sarah was nice enough to give him some old meat to use as bait and Ben had sprayed it with pheromones to get the beast's attention. Alive or dead, the nobles that employed him wanted proof that Ben had caught it. Mostly to reassure themselves that they were safe from this thing.

He waited through the night, staring at the trap. Ben barely stirred at all. Despite the howling going on in Silverpines, Millfields was surprisingly silent. Ben found himself teetering in and out of sleep all night. If not for Miss Sarah coming outside with some coffee, Ben might have fallen asleep. "Compliments of Mrs. Hatch." Miss Sarah yawned as she set the mug of coffee down. "She seems quite smitten with you, Mr. Finn. We had to stop her from coming outside to join you."

Blushing, Ben nodded his thank you to Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah slowly made her way back to the front of the house. She stopped for a moment when she heard a sound behind her. "Mr. Finn, do you need something else?" she asked, turning around. No one was there. "I had better get to bed. My mind is playing tricks on me." She whispered, walking up the front steps. Before she could open the door, she heard the sound again. "Hello?" she chirped softly. Miss Sarah's heart was pounding. She looked out on the lake and saw nothing but the ripples the wind was causing. Miss Sarah swallowed hard and started for the steps again.

Before she could open the door, a loud howling sound came from behind her. Miss Sarah screamed loudly, enough to make Ben choke on his coffee. Ben tossed the mug down and grabbed his rifle. He sprinted to the front of the house and found Miss Sarah pinned against the door by none other than the Red Balverine. "Hey, Monster!" Ben shouted, taking aim. The Red Balverine looked over at Ben, giving Miss Sarah a chance to run inside. The monster noticed this and then looked back at Ben in anger.

"Sorry I made dinner get away, but your quarrel is with me. Your pelt is worth a lot of money and I aim to collect. You won't make a fool out of me again!" Ben made sure his rifle was ready and stared the beast down. "I'm ready for you this time, Monster…"

The Red Balverine roared loudly and charged at Ben. Ben aimed and tried to fire, but his rifle jammed. Ben shook his rifle and tried to get it to work, but found himself being yanked into the air by this throat by the monster. Granted, he should have made sure his rifle was in working order before he stormed after this thing, but when he heard Miss Sarah scream, the only thing that came to mind was saving her and getting that balverine. The Red Balverine threw Ben into the garden fence and roared loudly.

Ben picked himself up and ran into the garden, to fetch his backup weapons. The balverine followed behind on Ben's heels, smashing anything that got in his way. The garden looked like a warzone, with sashed pots, broken statues, and damaged plants. Ben picked up a flower pot and tossed it at the monster, slowing him down enough to reach his camp. Before he could pick up a weapon, the Red Balverine grabbed him again. It growled at him and flashed his shiny teeth. Before it could do anything, distant howling caught its attention. The monster tossed Ben down and ran off into the woods.

Ben slunk down to catch his breath and to get his heart rate down. The next thing he heard was the sound of the front door opening and the pitter-patter of feet from a group of people. He then heard Gordon shout loudly about the mess in the garden and the footsteps of the other servants running to see if Ben was okay.

The next morning, as the girls helped Gordon repair the garden, Miss Sarah served breakfast outside to Reaver and Mrs. Hatch. The spring morning was unusually warm and Reaver decided to enjoy it. Ben had decided to move his camp by the lake, as not to cause anymore property damage. Reaver, who was already losing his patience with Ben, told Ben he'd take the damages out of whatever prize Ben was to collect when he caught the Red Balverine.

Of course, Reaver didn't tell Ben that he had no intention of letting that happen. Reaver sipped his coffee and looked out on the lake. "So, any plans today, Mother Hatch?" Reaver asked, as Miss Sarah set the plates of food down. She put three plates down, one being for Barry. "I have no idea where that son of yours is, but he had better hurry up."

Mrs. Hatch smiled and thanked Miss Sarah for breakfast. "I was thinking of going into Bowerstone and doing some shopping."

"Oh, I would love to join you, but I'm needed in the factory today. I'll have Beryl accompany you." Reaver sipped his coffee again and looked up from breakfast. As Miss Sarah was going back inside, Barry was walking outside. Reaver heard Miss Sarah gleefully tell him good morning and then saw her smile become a worried frown when Barry only nodded as he walked by. Barry looked like he had a rough night, but shook it off when he approached his mother and boss.

"Barry, did you not sleep well, dearie?" asked Mrs. Hatch as her son sat down. "He was always a rough sleeper. Ever since he was a boy, could never stop tossing and turning. Why, sometimes I'd get up to check on him in the night and he'd be completely off the bed! Sprawled out on the floor and still snoring!"

Reaver snickered a bit, and so did the servants standing near enough to hear Mrs. Hatch. Before he could respond, Miss Sarah once again appeared outside. "Here is the jam you requested, Mrs. Hatch. I made it yesterday while I was waiting for the sauce to boil. Its strawberry, just like you asked." Mrs. Hatch smiled and nodded her thank you. "Mr. Reaver, I'm going into Bowerstone Market to run some errands after I clean up from breakfast, is there anything you need besides the usual groceries?"

Before Reaver could speak up, Mrs. Hatch interrupted. "Bowerstone Market? Would you like a shopping buddy, Sarah?" she asked, biting into her toast.

"That would be wonderful, Mrs. Hatch. I'll finish cleaning and come get you when I'm ready." With that, Miss Sarah scampered off toward the manor again.

Mrs. Hatch smiled and went back to her breakfast. "Such a lovely young woman, that Sarah is. And a wonderful cook too! Last night's dinner was superb. Wouldn't you agree, Barry?" Mrs. Hatch looked over at her son, who slowly munched on his toast. "Of course you agree. I'm surprised you're not more awake with such delicious meals to get your day started. I bet that Sarah could barbeque up a rat and it'd still taste like it was grilled on a gourmet stove." Mrs. Hatch finished her breakfast and shot up instantly. "Well, I'd better go get ready to go shopping."

By the lake, Ben was writing in his journal the events of the night before. He was trying to find a connection between the Red Balverine and recent events. "The last time I was here, almost a year ago, that thing had kidnapped Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch and took them into the woods. He was obviously saving Hatch for a midnight snack just by studying his injuries, but Miss Sarah seemed unharmed. This time, he went straight for Miss Sarah. As far as everyone I've questioned is concerned, it only appears during the full moon. More evidence that it's not fully a balverine, but a person, more specifically a man."

Ben scribbled in his journal some more until he decided to put it away. "I don't see why everyone assumes killing this specific balverine will get rid of the others." murmured a voice behind Ben. Ben turned around and saw Rosie standing there. Ben sat up and invited Rosie to sit with him. She didn't move.

"Balverines work as a pack. You take down the alpha and the others will scatter. Sometimes they join other packs and make bigger packs." Ben retorted, standing up. "I was under the assumption that I wasn't to speak to you."

Rosie shrugged and walked up to Ben. As tall as Rosie was, she could easily look Ben in the eye. "There is something about that balverine that everyone wants dead. I sense something off about it. It seems familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. I get the feeling it doesn't like its predicament, but something keeps it coming back here to the manor. I don't think you should kill it, Mr. Finn. I don't think he has any control over his actions. Not anymore, at least…"

With that, Rosie left Ben to think. He didn't understand why she never called him by his name, seeing as they've shared more than tea together. Rosie was more than intuitive and Ben was pretty sure she had the ability to read minds. "Not killing it means I don't get paid and it will put the residents of Millfields in more danger. I could catch it alive, but I can't tote a balverine around with me. I heard it's possible to tame a balverine, but that Red Balverine has been too much trouble as it is."

Barry tried to drink his coffee, but found his hands shaking. Reaver calmly sipped his coffee and looked at his attendant. "You ran out of that special tea, didn't you?" he murmured, making sure no one was around to hear him. Barry nodded and sipped what little coffee was left in his cup. "I told you to buy more last full moon."

"I had…an unexpected expense come up, Sir." Barry moaned as he finished his breakfast. "I think it might be best if I take a few days off, Master."

Reaver waved the thought away. "And leave your poor mother to worry? Hatch, your 'affliction' picked a very bad time to rear its ugly head. I am a little unhappy that you have yet to learn to control it without the tea. I figured that would be the first thing you do. Well, you're just going to have to do without that tea crutch. I will not have it ruining a guest's stay, especially since that guest is your delightful mother. I could listen to that story of you and the baby pig incident all day. In fact…" Reaver wiped his mouth and stood up when he saw Mrs. Hatch and Miss Sarah leave the manor. "Mother Hatch, I don't believe Miss Sarah has heard the story about the baby pig…" Barry covered his tired eyes and slunk down in his seat.

When the evening came, Ben once again found himself outside. This time, he was showing Willa and Beryl how to properly set a trap. "Mr. Finn, why has the Red Balverine been attacking this property specifically?" Willa asked as Ben snapped the trap in place.

Ben shrugged. "I have no clue. I'm trying to find a connection. I've take some extra precautions, since the town crier was saying a storm was in tomorrow night's forecast."

The trap snapped back at Ben when Rosie walked up to them. "Mrs. Hatch and Miss Sarah are back from town and Miss Sarah needs help putting the groceries away. Beryl, Mr. Reaver wants you to take Mrs. Hatch's purchases to the guest room." Willa and Beryl nodded and ran towards the manor again. Rosie looked out at the traps Ben had set. "I don't think Mr. Reaver wants all these bear traps littering his property." Rosie mentioned, folding her arms.

"I'll have them cleaned up by morning. Hopefully, one of them will snag that monstrosity. I don't know why, but for some reason it likes this mansion. Maybe it's the proximity to Silverpines." Ben started to fix the trap that snapped at him as Rosie looked around.

"Or the proximity to its intended target…" Rosie murmured before walking off.

Ben thought about what Rosie said for a moment. "Intended target…I think she just might be on to something. Let's see how tonight goes and then I'll explain my theory to Reaver…"

When Ben told Reaver his theory and idea that night after dinner, Reaver was less enthusiastic then Ben had originally thought he'd be. "Let me get this straight, Mr. Finn: You want to use myself and my servants as bait for this…monster?" Reaver asked, as Gordon set out a pipe and some scotch for him (Barry was given permission to go to bed early, complaining of headaches). "You must have hit your head on one of my stone statues when that balverine threw you into my garden if you think I would go along with that idea."

Ben swallowed hard. "I want to test out a theory. I believe that Balverine is particularly interested in this house, but I don't know why. At first I thought it was because it was closest to the entrance to Silverpines, but now I believe that's just a lucky coincidence. I think he's after something or someone in this house."

Reaver's expression didn't change. "The answer is no, Mr. Finn. I doubt they would like the thought of being monster bait, and I dislike the idea even more now that I've said it out loud. I have invested a lot of time and money into my servants and if any of them returns to my house with a limb missing or as nothing but a pile of bloody clothes, you would have a very high debt to pay off, and I don't mean funeral costs." With that, Reaver got up and left the study.

Rubbing his face, Ben started to leave as well. He was about to leave the manor and go back to his camp when he heard the sound of laughter in the kitchen. He knew it was impolite of him to eavesdrop on the conversations of others, but he couldn't help it. The chat was between Mrs. Hatch and Miss Sarah.

"…and then the pig ran off down the road and it took three farm hands to take it down and get Barry off its back!" Mrs. Hatch laughed. Miss Sarah laughed gently and sipped her tea. "My Barry is a good man and I would like it if he lived closer to me. You say your brother is the town clerk in Brightwall? I think I've seen him. Geoffrey, correct?" Mrs. Hatch asked before putting some more sugar in her tea.

Miss Sarah nodded. "Yes, Geoffrey. He's my older brother. I write him every so often to see if he's okay. He's been bugging me to come visit him, but I can't. I just know…" Miss Sarah looked like she didn't want to say anymore. "…my parents will be there. He's been trying to get me to reconcile with them for years. Mrs. Hatch, I know it's wrong of me to think ill of my parents, but how can I forgive them after everything they did to me? Trying to marry me off not even a week after my fiancée died. It was like they were selling their prize cow at auction."

With a soft sigh, Mrs. Hatch looked up from her tea. "It takes a lot of courage to find forgiveness, Sarah dear. But it is something you must do on your own. No one can make you forgive someone if you aren't ready. You may never be ready to forgive them. What strikes me is that it's your brother making the effort and not them. Only you can decide if you're ready to let them back into your life, dear. Until then, don't think too much of it. Think of all the things you've accomplished without them. You're an accomplished cook for the wealthiest man in Albion outside the royal family and you certainly know your way around a poker hand. It seems you've cultivated a family for yourself here."

Miss Sarah, humbled by the praise, sighed happily. "Thank you, Mrs. Hatch. Maybe one day I will speak to them. But right now, I want to focus on other things. Mrs. Hatch, as one woman to another, do you often feel…lonely?"

Mrs. Hatch smiled and put her hand on Miss Sarah's. "My dear, ever since my Bertram died it's all I've felt. Which is why I want my Barry to come visit me more often; he is my only child, after all. I want only the best for him, which I assume your parents did as well. Granted, they took the wrong way round it, but a parent's intentions can become eschewed. My Barry needs a strong, sturdy woman that will stand behind him no matter what; someone to kick him out the door in the morning and greet him with open arms at night, along with a smile and a hot meal ready for him. I always made sure my Bertram had a hot dinner waiting for him when he got home. Sometimes, it's the little things like a hot meal and a cup of tea to show a man you appreciate all his hard work."

Miss Sara blushed and nodded as she finished her tea. "He needs a woman like you, Sarah dear." Mrs. Hatch added. Miss Sarah blushed deep red and hid her face behind her tea cup. "Yes, a woman like you is exactly what he needs. Loving personality with a tough outer crust that can handle anything, which you obviously can considering you work for Reaver." Mrs. Hatch fawned softly. Miss Sarah got up and took her tea cup to the sink. "And those wide hips! That's the sign of a good woman. In the old days we called them 'child-bearing hips'. Why, my grandchildren would just fly right out!"

Ben, who had been listening, tried to keep his laughter down as Miss Sarah dropped her tea cup into the empty sink in surprise. He liked a woman who was blunt and Mrs. Hatch was a very blunt woman. Ben decided to leave the manor before things got even more awkward. He left to Miss Sarah stammering her words and Mrs. Hatch chuckling softly.

Making his way outside, Ben noticed something off. All the traps he had set were snapped, as if something had triggered them. "There's nothing in the traps, not even a rabbit!" Ben whispered as he ran to the nearest trap. He didn't see anything wrong with the trap itself, but something had made it snap shut. He picked it up and examined it. It wasn't broken but it was closed tight. Ben didn't like the tension of the air that night and made his way to his camp by the lake.

"That clever…" Ben murmured as he tried to open the trap. The wind started blowing hard, almost knocking Ben over. "The crier said the storm wasn't due until tomorrow." Ben threw the trap down and looked up at the sky over the lake. The sun had already set and the overcast was there. "Someone ought to flog that man." He murmured again, gathering his traps. Rusted traps would be useless, so he gathered all of his traps and ran for his campsite.

"Mr. Finn!" shouted a voice from the manor. Ben looked up as he threw his traps into their box. Ben looked up and saw Miss Sarah running toward him wearing a shawl. "The storm is coming in early. Mr. Reaver said you can come inside as long as you don't cause any mayhem."

Before Miss Sarah could turn around, the sound of a deep guttural growl caught her attention. Ben and Miss Sarah turned their attention to the lakeside and there stood the Red Balverine. His muzzle was wet, as if he had just gotten a drink of water. His claws were caked with dried blood, most likely from his dinner. His orange fur blew with the wind. The monster let out a loud roar, indicating he was ready for seconds and dessert.

"Get behind me!" Ben shouted to Miss Sarah, who did as she was told. The Red Balverine stopped right at the end of Ben's rifle. "Get back, you monster!" he shouted. Ben actually had no intention of firing his gun while Miss Sarah was around. He decided to bluff his way toward the manor so Miss Sarah could get inside, and then he'd take on the beast. Miss Sarah tried to hold back her frightened tears. The Red Balverine didn't look impressed and smacked the rifle from Ben's hands with one swish of its massive claws. It then knocked Ben out of the way.

Ben landed by his campsite with a loud thud. He wasn't hurt but he felt sore. Ben helped himself up and saw the monster slowly come toward Miss Sarah. "Stay still!" Ben shouted, reaching for a back-up gun frantically. Miss Sarah backed up slowly, trying not to cry.

"Nice doggy…" she whimpered as the beast glared down at her. A shot rang out by the lake. Ben fired a warning shot into the air, getting the Red Balverine's attention. It growled and readied its claws to charge at Ben. It roared ferociously and ran for Ben.

"Come on you damn monster!" Ben shouted, reloading his single shot rifle. Ben readied himself as the balverine came at him full force. Ben aimed his new rifle but felt it get whipped from his hands with another powerful swipe from the balverine. Ben didn't have time to fetch his weapon as the Red Balverine lifted him up by his neck with his powerful claws. With one claw's fingers wrapped around Ben's neck, the other claws readied to do irreparable damage to Ben's chiseled face.

Then a shoe, of all things, smacked the Red Balverine on the side of the head. Ben and the Balverine looked up at Miss Sarah, as she aimed her other shoe. "Let him go!" she shouted, tossing her other shoe at the monster. Ben tried shouting for her to make a run for it, but Miss Sarah picked up a rock and chucked it at the beast. It didn't look mad, just annoyed. The Red Balverine dropped Ben and ran for Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah darted out of the way with agility she didn't even know she had, her shawl flying into the air as she jumped, distracting the beast long enough for her to run to Ben.

"Miss Sarah that is the bravest and stupidest thing I have ever seen!" Ben shouted, grabbing Miss Sarah and making a run for the manor. Ben yanked Miss Sarah into the manor and shut the big manor doors tightly as the monster roared at the night sky. Miss Sarah made her way to the stairs where the other servants were coming down to see what the commotion was. Ben looked out one of the front windows and noticed something odd.

The Red Balverine had taken to sniffing Miss Sarah's shoes and shawl. He wasn't tearing them apart or chewing on them. In fact, it looked like he was coveting them. Ben watched as the balverine licked the shoes and sniffed the shawl. This went on for a bit until it finally gathered the items in its massive claws and dashed towards Silverpines. Something clicked in Ben's head as the echoes of the beast's howl, followed by a chorus of other howls, sang outside. Ben turned around and gazed at Miss Sarah, who was hurriedly telling the others what happened.

Ben had found the connection. The connection was Miss Sarah. "Miss Sarah, may I speak with you and the others in the study for a moment?" Ben didn't wait for an answer. He strode into the study with the others walking behind him. The fire was still going from when Reaver and Mrs. Hatch had been in earlier. The wind outside was starting to get wilder, blowing hard against the windows and making the table by the window shake a little.

"Reaver forbad me from doing this, but I think we don't have any other choice. I have found the connection." Ben sighed, leaning against one of Reaver's posh chairs.

"What connection?" Beryl asked, sitting down in one of the chairs.

"Mr. Finn thinks there is a reason that balverine keeps attacking Millfields, more specifically Lakeview Manor." Rosie said, making her presence known. "Something is making the Red Balverine come after this house and Mr. Finn thinks it's Miss Sarah's presence."

Everyone looked at Miss Sarah at that moment. Miss Sarah didn't know what to think. "Me?" she asked softly, pointing to herself. "Why would that thing want me?"

Ben shrugged. "Last time I was here, it took you and Mr. Hatch off into the woods. Mr. Hatch was nearly torn to shreds but you were unharmed. Last night that thing had ample opportunity to tear you to pieces but instead it just sniffed you. And now, tonight, it took your shoes and your shawl because they had your scent. Miss Sarah, I don't know how to say this, but I think that thing might have taken a keen liking to you and that's why it's been coming around here."

Miss Sarah blinked. She couldn't think of anything to say.

"Miss Sarah, I would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. But that thing is going to keep coming after you until it tears the house apart. Miss Sarah, tomorrow night, I need you to be bait for that thing so I can finally take it down and end this madness." Ben looked like he didn't want to say that statement.

The other servants looked at each other in bewilderment. "We can't just give Miss Sarah to that thing! He'll eat her in one gulp!" Willa shouted, folding her arms.

"No, no I don't think this monster wants to eat Miss Sarah. If what Mr. Finn said is true, I think it…" Gordon blushed and then got a disgusted look on his face. "…I think, and I really hope I'm wrong, that thing wants to make Miss Sarah his 'significant other'."

Miss Sarah blushed and then got a horrified look on her face. Ben scowled. "That thing probably wants to turn her into a balverine so that can happen. Balverines mate for life and rarely stray. Miss Sarah would probably make a good wife one day, but I don't intend to let that balverine claim her or anyone else. We'll need to trick that thing and get him into the open. But Miss Sarah, I'm going to need your help and the help of the others, as well as your boss."

Getting Reaver to go along with his plan wouldn't be easy. The next day came and Ben once again told his idea to Reaver, this time with more certainty. Reaver looked like he already knew all this, but he knew how to fake surprise. But Reaver knew the dangers of revealing the secret he held. It wouldn't just put himself in danger, but he'd lose the best assistant he's ever had and poor Mother Hatch would lose her son. He liked Mrs. Hatch too much to let that happen and training a new assistant was an expensive endeavor. Or maybe Reaver was lazier than he liked to think he was.

Reavie, sitting on Reaver's lap like the pampered kitty she was, mewed softly indicating that she was reading for Reaver to continue petting her. Reaver unconsciously granted this request to his cat. Reaver wasn't really paying attention to Ben. He was formulating his own plan. He did, however, hear the part about Ben using Miss Sarah as bait. He shot up in outrage, causing Reavie to jump down and scamper away from her master.

"Mr. Finn, you're insane and I've had enough of this foolishness. You've already caused enough damage around here with your traps and such littering my yard. I want you and your camp off my property by nightfall!" Reaver shouted. "I have had just about enough of this 'Red Balverine' foolishness going around and you filling my servant's heads with this nonsense! If you couldn't catch it the first time, you obviously won't catch it now."

Ben didn't back down. Reaver towered over Ben, even without the hat. "Mr. Reaver, it's not nonsense. This thing is coming after your cook and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep it from killing everyone else to get to her. This thing is relentless and it won't stop until it has what it wants."

Miss Sarah, who seemed to be the focus of this entire argument, left the study before anyone could ask for her opinion. The arguing had settled after a while. Reaver agreed to give Ben one more shot and the servants were to help in any way possible. Miss Sarah sighed and tried to continue making lunch.

Upstairs, Mrs. Hatch stood outside her son's door. He hadn't gotten up yet, but Mrs. Hatch could hear him snoring through the door. She was worried about him, as any mother would be. "Barry?" Mrs. Hatch murmured, knowing on his door. "I know you haven't been feeling well and I'm worried about you. I don't know if it's my intuition or not, but I think you're hiding something and you know that isn't healthy. Please open the door, Barry-bear."

Mrs. Hatch took it upon herself to open the door now. It wasn't locked, much to her surprise. Mrs. Hatch walked into her son's room and saw Barry sprawled out on the bed. The way he was sleeping looked like he had just fallen on the bed. His uniform was folded neatly on a chair near his bed but his pajamas looked like they had been ripped off by an animal. Mrs. Hatch looked around the room and found a spare blanket near the closet. As she picked it up, she noticed something that made her heart swell. Taped to his closet door were two pictures of him and Miss Sarah. Mrs. Hatch smiled and put the blanket over her son with a happy sigh.

On his desk, Mrs. Hatch found a very ornate looking box. The box itself was a deep blue color she had never seen before and the lock looked like a balverine roaring. She had never seen a box like this before and was surprised that it was open. She had never gone through her sons things before, but felt something was terribly wrong with Barry and the reason why had something to do with this odd box. She quietly opened the ornate box and found newspaper clippings and wanted posters that looked like they had been torn from posts.

Articles with headlines like "The Red Balverine Strikes Again!" and "Balverine Attacks Double since Red Beast Appears! Royal Guards Urge Caution in Silverpines-Millfields Area" seemed to catch her attention more than the others. Mrs. Hatch remembered reading about this monster before her visit and it was all Ben Finn talked about since meeting him. Mrs. Hatch picked up one particular article and then looked at her son. The article read "Red Monster Sighted near Lakeview Manor in Millfields! Industrialist Reaver Refuses to Comment".

Mrs. Hatch left Barry's room after putting the articles back. She softly closed the door and walked toward the main part of the house.

The late night finally came and Miss Sarah found herself standing in the middle of Reaver's front yard. She didn't know how she had been convinced to do this, but there she was. Miss Sarah looked around, wishing she still had her shawl. The storm, which everyone thought was coming the night before, still hadn't come. The wind was blowing pretty hard, though. Miss Sarah had been standing in that same spot for about a half hour. She had never needed to use the bathroom more in her entire life.

"You're doing good Miss Sarah!" Ben shouted, from his camp with Reaver sitting close to the campfire. "She's just standing there. Maybe he likes the chase." He murmured. Reaver rolled his eyes and looked around. "The others are in position in the woods, in case he tries to run again. Everything should go according to plan. We'd have a bigger success rate if Mr. Hatch had agreed to help. I figured with Miss Sarah being the bait, he'd want to chime in."

Miss Sarah stood in place for another little while. "I don't think this is working!" she shouted. "I'm really cold now! Can we take a break?" Before Miss Sarah could move, she noticed her shawl being handed to her from her left. "Oh, thank you…" She then noticed it was the shawl from the night before. The one that was taken by the balverine, along with her shoes. Miss Sarah slowly turned her attention to her left and her eyes grew wide.

Miss Sarah's screams caught Ben's attention. He grabbed his rifle and ran to his vantage point. The Monster had Miss Sarah in its grip. Miss Sarah screamed loudly as the balverine ran off into the woods with her screaming and kicking. "Damn it!" shouted Ben, firing at the balverine. He didn't want to fire too closely to the beast as he might accidently hit Miss Sarah. "I hope the others are ready for it!"

The beast ran into the woods as fast as it could with one arm grasping a struggling Miss Sarah. "Let me go!" she shouted, hitting the monster's arm with her fists. Miss Sarah had no idea where this monster was taking her, or why he was targeting her. The deeper they went into the woods, the more scared Miss Sarah became. She didn't realize Silverpines went this deep into the woods. Maybe they were so far into the woods that they weren't even in Silverpines anymore.

After a while, Miss Sarah stopped struggling. It became obvious that this beast didn't intend to hurt her. At least not at the moment, but she knew something was to come. The Red Balverine stopped after a while and sniffed the air. Miss Sarah didn't bother to struggle anymore. The monster's grip was too strong. Just as she thought the journey was over, the Red Balverine darted into another direction, yanking Miss Sarah along with him.

More balverines became clear as the Red Balverine came closer to a thicket surrounded by trees. The balverines did nothing as the Red Balverine passed through the thicket. Beyond the thicket was a clearing and the remains of a castle. Old Kingdom ruins darted Albion's landscape, so finding a pack of balverines (of any animal) living in one wasn't unusual. The Red Balverine took Miss Sarah to what looked like the remains of a balcony. Miss Sarah believed this place was once a small palace and its ruins were sinking into the ground; otherwise the beautiful lake on the other side wouldn't have been so close.

The Red Balverine finally put Miss Sarah down, nudging her to sit on a broken stone bench. Not wanting to disappoint (and possibly be eaten) by her captor, Miss Sarah sat down. The Red Balverine howled loudly at the lake, causing hundreds of frightened fireflies to illuminate the air. Miss Sarah was amazed. The Red Balverine left for a moment and then came back, dragging Miss Sarah's shawl in his massive fangs. He presented the shawl to Miss Sarah, sat in front of her, and wagged his skinny tail.

Miss Sarah picked up the partially ripped shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Thank you…" she murmured. Miss Sarah was frightened by this monster, but something about him seemed familiar and comforting. She didn't scream, knowing it would arouse the other balverines in the area.

"Why me?" she asked, after a long silence. She wasn't sure why she asked this monster why it was relentlessly pursuing her. Miss Sarah sighed and put her hands on her lap. The Red Balverine sniffed her hands and licked them softly. Miss Sarah giggled, the monster's tongue tickling her palms. "You're not dangerous at all, are you?" she cooed, reaching her hand out. She hesitated a bit at first, but finally put her hand on the balverine's head, pretty it like a dog.

Miss Sarah finally smiled and started rubbing the Red Balverine's head. "You're actually a big sweety, do you know that?" she cooed again, rubbing the monster's head faster. The Red Balverine started kicking his back leg wildly. Miss Sarah laughed and stood up, looking out at the lake. "Mr. Finn said it was mating season for you and your kind. I guess I'm to assume you're going to make me your unholy matron of the night?"

The Red Balverine looked at Miss Sarah with confusion. "Or maybe you just want a friend. I imagine being the strongest balverine gets lonely." Miss Sarah walked to the edge of the ruined balcony and looked out among the lake the ruin was sinking into. She could make out other balverines by the lake but when she squinted her eyes a little more she noticed something else. Down the hillside and cross the lake (a little to the right) was Lakeview Manor, she could see the lights from the dock. They didn't go away from Millfields; they just went around Bower Lake. Some of Bower Lake was dammed off and Miss Sarah could see the dam not too far away.

"Why didn't you just take me across the lake?" she asked, as if actually expecting an answer. She thought for a moment and looked at the massive monster again. "Oh, balverines can't swim, can they?" she asked softly. The Red Balverine understood her, but didn't answer. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not much of a swimmer, either. I mean, I can tread water and doggy paddle and such, but only in the lake. In the ocean, well that's a different story. I…don't much like the ocean."

Miss Sarah looked at the monster again. He was listening attentively. "You're a big sweety, do you know that?" she murmured. "You didn't want to hurt me; you just wanted someone to talk to you. You're a big old puppy, aren't you?" Miss Sarah walked up to the balverine, who easily towered over her. She reached her hands up and started rubbing its neck. The Red Balverine stuck out his tongue and panted happily as Miss Sarah rubbed his neck.

With a soft giggle, Miss Sarah sat down again. "So, all that destruction you were causing all over Millfields was just to find someone to be your friend. That's…very human." She murmured, pulling her shawl close to her shoulders. "I imagine eating all those people was because you were hungry. I guess that can't be helped."

Miss Sarah looked out at the other balverines, who were eying her with their big yellow eyes. She could tell they were watching her. The only thing protecting her from those monsters being the Red Balverine, Miss Sarah knew her place here. "So, are you their leader? Do they do as you say?" she asked, as if expecting an answer.

The Red Balverine jumped onto the balcony wall and howled loudly. The other balverines howled in response. Miss Sarah smiled and patted the Red Balverine on its head when it returned to her. "You're such a sweety; I don't know why Mr. Finn wants to hunt you. Of course, you might only be a sweety to me. I bet you've got quite a score to settle with Mr. Finn, don't you?" Miss Sarah stood up again and walked to the balcony posts. "I don't know why, but I feel like I know you. I know we had that encounter last year, but it seems different. You remind me of someone…"

Fixing her apron, Miss Sarah watched as the Red Balverine lumbered over to her on all fours. The way some of its orange hair swept to the side of its face reminded Miss Sarah of Barry. "You look like someone I work with. You look like Mr. Hatch!" Miss Sarah giggled. "You're sweet, just like he is."

The Red Balverine panted softly and laid down at Miss Sarah's feet. "I wonder…if you appear every full moon, why haven't I seen you around? Do you travel a lot? I don't blame you. I like my routine, but others find it boring. Mr. Hatch has been in a slump lately. His mother came to visit and though she's a delightful woman, he doesn't seem too happy about her visit. He's been acting quite strangely lately and I don't think it has to do with his mother visiting. He's a good man and he works hard, but I know there is something else on his mind. A little while ago, he went with me to run errands in the city, and I think he had an epiphany while we were out."

Miss Sarah sighed again and looked down at the Red Balverine. "I can sense some kind of conflict going on in him. I think my friend Rosie can feel it too. She's sensitive to things like that and I think it's been on her mind as well. It worries me, you know? My grandmother once told me that when I worry about someone so much, it just means I care about them a great deal. Can I tell you something?" Miss Sarah covered her mouth and blushed. "I've never admitted this to anyone, not even my friends. But…"

Miss Sarah watched as the Red Balverine leaped onto the obviously undersized bench and laid his head in her lap. "I think I'm in love with Mr. Hatch…"

Just as she finished saying that, Miss Sarah heard the howl of the other balverines in the distance, followed by a gunshot. "That didn't sound like Mr. Reaver's gun. Mr. Reaver's gun has a pretty distinct sound to it and trust me when I say we've all heard it plenty of times." Miss Sarah warned as she got up. She walked over to the edge of the balcony. "It's Mr. Finn, I know it. He's looking for me and I can almost promise my friends will be right along with him."

In the woods, the group followed the rushed footprints the Red Balverine left behind. Rosie lagged behind and kept looking off in different directions. "Your boss is giving us until sun up to find Miss Sarah. If we don't come back with her, he's not going to be happy. And if I don't come back with that balverine's pelt around my shoulders, I don't get paid." Ben mused as the servants stopped in a clearing. "The footsteps stop here. Balverines are good climbers but even as strong as he was, that red monster is still being weighed down by Miss Sarah. I don't think he took to the trees, seeing as none of these trees have claw marks on them."

Rosie, despite everyone else being stopped, walked past Ben and toward the edge of the clearing. Gordon put his fist on his hip and watched Rosie. Rosie slowly turned her head slowly, almost turning her neck a complete 360 degrees. It was as if she was looking for something more than the physical. Rosie, like a metal detector, kept her gaze in the direction she was getting the strongest vibe from. Rosie finally stopped and pointed.

"I think Rosie's got something." Gordon shouted to the others. Rosie started walking in another direction, with the others following. She didn't say anything. Rosie didn't need to. The group followed closely, the feeling of cold air getting more prominent. "I think we're near a large body of water." Gordon said after a while.

Still saying nothing, Rosie led the group farther into the woods. After what seemed like an eternity, Rosie eventually led them to the lake front. "Bower Lake?" Be remarked, stepping ahead of the group. He knew this was Bower Lake, but couldn't tell what side. "Rosie, did you just lead us across the lake?" he asked. Rosie said nothing and looked out to the lake. "If I had known all we needed to do to find Miss Sarah and that bloody beast that took her was to cross the lake, I would have just asked one of the residents for a row boat!" Ben shouted. Rosie glowered at Ben, causing him and the others to cower away.

Beryl had good hearing. What she lacked in good eyesight, she made up for by having fantastic hearing. She could hear a cricket chirp three miles away, so hearing Miss Sarah's soft humming was child's play to Beryl. Fixing her glasses, Beryl looked around. She looked a little ways away and saw a nearly sunken ruin of an Old Kingdom castle. "Miss Sarah!" Beryl shouted, pointing to the ruin.

"She's okay!" Willa shouted.

Ben shook his head in disbelief. "We need to act fast. Have to get her out of there and lure that thing back towards the trap. Luckily, one can only happen with the other. Follow me." Ben crouched down and told the others to do the same. He kept his rifle close and instructed the group to follow. He knew the other balverines could see them, but they didn't attack. Balverines, hardly solitary creatures, almost always attacked as a group, putting their brute strength and agility to work. It seemed to Ben that this group was waiting for instructions from their boss.

Their boss, the Red Balverine, sat in his spot of leadership above them. Next to him was his prize, Miss Sarah. Ben didn't want to alert the beast, so he and the others kept low as they made their way to the ruin to get Miss Sarah. "He's pretty much established himself as their leader." Gordon commented.

"Balverines are very pack minded. The strongest lead and have first pick of mates. But most balverines mate for life, so only the strongest will do. I do not doubt Miss Sarah's strength, but I don't think she could hold a candle to some of the other females. I don't know what that monster has planned, but it won't end well for her." Ben sounded a lot more scared than he probably needed to be.

"When you trap that thing, won't it cause a leadership shift?" Willa asked as they approached the ruin.

Ben shrugged. "I think it depends on how well liked the leader is. If the other balverines don't follow his leadership closely, they'll ignore him and eventually kill each other until a new leader is established. If he's a good leader, then they will defend him if he's in trouble." Ben motioned for them to stop. He pressed everyone against the wall of the ruin, watching the Red Balverine leave. "Let's hope he's a terrible leader." Ben motioned with the others to follow and stay low.

It was obvious that the ruin was sinking into the moist ground, as the servants had no trouble reaching Miss Sarah's balcony. Miss Sarah, her hands on her lap, looked up from her thoughts and smiled at the others when they approached. "You guys made it!" she shouted happily.

The others shushed her. "Miss Sarah, are you hurt?" Beryl asked, as she and Willa ran up to her.

Miss Sarah shook her head. "Oh no, I'm quite alright. My host has been quite nice to me."

"Your 'Host' is going to be back any minute to tear you quite a few new ones, so we have to get out of here." Ben commanded, making sure the coast was clear.

Miss Sarah shook head again and resisted a little as Beryl and Willa pulled her along. "No, you don't understand! He means no harm!" Miss Sarah shouted, digging her heels into the stone floor of the ruin. "He's not at all dangerous, just give him a chance!"

"I'll be sure to relay that to the families of all the farmers he picked off in the last year or so. Now, if you don't mind, your boss has given us until sun up to find you and get rid of that beast or else. I don't know what he means by 'or else', but I'm sure you all do. I'm not very eager to find out. Now, let's move!" Ben handed Gordon his rifle and picked Miss Sarah up, tossing her over his shoulder. Miss Sarah kicked a little bit but eventually gave up.

As they left the ruin, a chilling howling sound filled the air, as if the pack was alerting their leader that something was wrong. "I think I know why those balverines didn't attack us." Rosie commented after her long silence. "I believe he instructed them to watch her."

Miss Sarah stammered her frightened scream as the others turned around. The entire Balverine pack was staring at them. "Don't worry, we can get through this. As long as we don't make any sudden…" Before Ben could finish his sentence he turned and noticed the others had run off into the night, somehow taking Miss Sarah without Ben noticing. Ben didn't have time to get mad, as Gordon still had his rifle. Ben made a mad dash toward the others, finding them on the path back to Millfields. The entire pack gave chase. "Oh, thanks for your cooperation!" Ben shouted, as Gordon fumbled with Miss Sarah over his shoulder and tossing Ben his rifle.

"If there is one thing we learned from Mr. Reaver, it's that you have to look out for your own safety in times of crisis. Of course, we look out for each other most of the time, too. To be honest, we don't really like you very much." Willa shouted breathlessly. The entire forest rumbled at the sound of the galloping balverines. The residents of the small village in Silverpines watched in confusion as the trees around them shook. When Ben and the servants ran through the village, he shouted for the residents to get inside. As he and the servants left, the massive pack of balverines followed closely behind, ignoring the village occupants.

Ben loaded his rifle and shot behind him, hitting one balverine and slowing down the others. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. I don't like you lot very much either, or that nutter you call a boss. But I'd rather not see what he'd do to me if you all didn't make it. Now, come on!" he shouted, pointing to the entrance of Millfields.

"We can't lead this pack back to Millfields!" Gordon shouted.

Ben nodded. "Split up, try to scatter the pack!" he shouted. Gordon, with Miss Sarah still on his shoulder, darted to the right. Ben and Rosie ran off to the left while Willa and Beryl ran back toward the village. Ben grabbed Rosie and yanked her behind a tree as the group of young balverines chasing them ran by. "Luckily, we got the inexperienced ones." Ben joked, penning Rosie to the tree with his arm. He heard Rosie clear her throat and snarl at him. Ben then realized he had his hand on her breast. Ben slowly took his hand away and smiled nervously. When the small balverines cornered them at the tree, Rosie's eyes began to glow bright. The balverines topped where they were. Rosie let out a horrible roaring sound, causing the balverines to run away. Ben looked at Rosie, who only shrugged.

Willa and Beryl ran back toward the village with a particularly burly balverine chasing them. Willa, who was running out of breath, watched Beryl collapse and fall behind. Beryl reached for Willa, who ran back to pick her up. "Come on, Beryl!" Willa shouted, tugging at Beryl's arm. The burly balverine was closing in on them. Willa thought fast and grabbed a log from a nearby lumber pile. As the burly balverine came close, Willa swung the log and smacked the burly balverine in the stomach. It fell on its back with a wheezing growl. Beryl got up and walked over to Willa, who smiled triumphantly. Their good feeling didn't last long when they watched the burly balverine start to recover. Willa grabbed Beryl's hand and ran back toward Millfields.

"Okay, Miss Sarah; you're getting heavy." Gordon put Miss Sarah down and rubbed his shoulder. "Don't worry I won't let anything happen to you." Gordon stopped to catch his breath. As he bent over, he heard Miss Sarah shriek softly. He looked up and saw an orange blur run off with Miss Sarah. Gordon gave chase, but was no match for the Red Balverine's speed. He ran back toward the Millfields entrance where the others had gathered again. Their plan obviously didn't work.

Miss Sarah, now being carried by the Red Balverine, could hear her friends shrieking in terror. The Red Balverine stopped and plopped Miss Sarah on the ground. "I have to go back!" Miss Sarah shouted. The Red Balverine just sat there. "Your pack has my friends cornered! I have to help them!" she pleaded. The Red Balverine growled his refusal. When he saw Miss Sarah start towards the others on her own accord, the Red Balverine stopped her, growling at her. Miss Sarah watched it gallop toward the others, a certain anger in its eyes.

The servants and Ben were now crowded around each other. Willa held onto Beryl while Rosie jumped into Gordon's arms. Ben held his rifle up and guarded the group, though he knew it was more for their comfort than for their safety. The balverines stepped aside and let their leader through. The Red Balverine growled and made his way toward Ben in particular. Ben raised his rifle and found it being smacked away by the monster. Ben kept himself against the others. The Red Balverine knocked him to the side and focused on the servants.

"STOP!" they heard a cry from the forest shout. The Red Balverine lowered his massive claw and turned his head. Miss Sarah made her way to the clearing. "PLEASE DON'T HURT THEM!" Miss Sarah ran to her friends and guarded them. The Red Balverine growled at Miss Sarah and roared a mighty roar at her. "Don't hurt them. They mean no harm. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have let them take me. But they were only concerned for my safety. I'll go back with you, just don't hurt them." Miss Sarah had tears going down her cheeks. The Red Balverine called off his pack and they dispersed into the forest and the night. Miss Sarah put her palm on the Red Balverine's cheek and smiled as he nuzzled her arm.

Before the beast could take Miss Sarah again, Ben grabbed his rifle and shot at the monster, making it writhe in pain. Miss Sarah put her hands over her mouth as the monster howled painfully into the night sky. The others grabbed Miss Sarah and pulled her toward them. The beast fell unconscious on the forest floor. "A single shot won't take this monster down. Let's get it back to the cage I have set up near the entrance. It won't harm you anymore, Miss Sarah." Ben reassured as he went to examine to beast. Gordon, blushing softly at Rosie in his arms, slowly let go of her and went to help Ben.

The predicted storm was mostly a drizzle as the muddied and worn out servants returned to Millfields to their awaiting boss and Mrs. Hatch. The servants, a muddied mess, trudged their way inside, their boss following close behind. Mrs. Hatch lingered a bit and watched the hillside. Ben was dragging the unconscious body of the Red Balverine into a cage. Mrs. Hatch didn't go to her room immediately. She took a side trip to the kitchen.

Miss Sarah couldn't sleep. While the others were worn out from their trek through the woods, Miss Sarah kept her mind on the Red Balverine. The thought of such a misunderstood creature sitting in that cage waiting for his ultimate fate made her stomach uneasy. Miss Sarah didn't know why she was so upset about this, but knew there was nothing she could do. Miss Sarah turned over in bed and tried to sleep.

On the hill, Ben sat in his chair and smiled to the waking balverine. "I finally have you, monster." He laughed, cleaning his rifle. "I had to trek an entire region and rescue a group of servants, but I finally have you and soon I will collect my reward." Ben's pomposity angered the balverine a little more. "Don't be sad, you're a worthy opponent. I won't lie, I'm going to miss tracking you down. But all good things must come to an end, you know? I think I'll miss the chase the most but I think I'll enjoy retiring and knowing that you're not killing innocent farmers a lot more."

The cage was strong and the balverine was still weak from the gunshot wound. "Don't worry, pup; soon, we'll both be as far away from here as possible. Why, with my reward, I think I'll ask Rosie to travel with me and leave that loony house behind. Why, I think-"

Before Ben could finish his sentence, an object that felt suspiciously like a frying pan strike him on the top of his head, causing him to fall to the ground. From the bushes, Mrs. Hatch stepped out, gripping the frying pan handle tightly. "Miss Sarah was right; only the best appliances will do when it comes to cooking…and bludgeoning a buffoon on the noggin." Mrs. Hatch held the frying pan high and struck the lock on the cage, causing it to break off. The door swung open and the Red Balverine lumbered out, still a bit woozy from the shot.

"Shh…" Mrs. Hatch patted the beast on his neck. "Don't worry, my dear. Mother will make this all better…" Mrs. Hatch looked at the rising sun and then at the balverine. "Yes, I know. I've had a little inkling for quite some time after your boss wrote to me about the incident. Don't fret, I won't tell a soul and I won't mention it again. Hurry back to bed and I'll stall your friends."

The mostly coherent balverine shook his dizziness off and galloped away. Mrs. Hatch sighed as the monster left her sight. She then looked down at the unconscious Ben. She nudged him with her foot and shook her head solemnly. "Rosie is too good for you, anyway." she murmured as she walked down the hill.

_A Week and a Half Later…_

Barry, in much better spirits than he had been in, happily took Reaver's hat when he walked in from his day at the factory. The entire house was once again running like a well-oiled machine. "My, my, what a lovely day it is, Hatch." Reaver mused as he took off his gloves. "Where are my darling servants?" he asked.

"Willa and Beryl are outside helping Rosie take in the laundry and Gordon is cutting some fresh roses for the dinner table." Barry helped Reaver toward the study, where his pipe and a glass of scotch were waiting for him on the table by the chair, with Reavie napping in the chair opposite.

"…and where is Miss Sarah? Shouldn't she be making dinner?" Reaver asked, eying Barry as he sat down. Reavie yawned and jumped from her chair to her master's lap. Reaver petted Reavie as Barry started getting everything ready for his boss.

"She's got beef stew simmering on the stove, Sir. She started it not long after you left this morning and it should be just about done by the time she and Mother get back from their shopping trip. She said something about needing to pick up something." Barry struck a match on his boot and lit Reaver's pipe. Reaver puffed his pipe as Barry shook the match out.

Reaver nodded and puffed his pipe. "Good, good. Will your mother need us to escort her to the train station tomorrow?" Reaver asked.

Barry shrugged. "I'll escort her, sir. She said not to let you worry."

Before either could relax, the front doors swung open in the foyer. The servants piled in; Rosie carried a basket of laundry with Willa and Beryl following her closely, Gordon walked in with a big bunch of freshly cut roses, and right behind them was Miss Sarah and Mrs. Hatch carrying some shopping bags. Reavie jumped from Reaver's lap and ran into the foyer. "Well, hello there, Reavie!" Mrs. Hatch gleefully shouted, putting down her bags and picking up the cat.

"Your shopping went well, Mother Hatch?" Reaver asked, making his presence known.

Mrs. Hatch nodded and showed Reaver her purchases. Miss Sarah only had one shopping bag. It contained a small box that looked really fancy. Miss Sarah saw Barry come toward her to help her with her bags. "I am glad to see you're feeling better, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah smiled, looking at her purchase.

Barry nodded and watched as Miss Sarah took what looked like a dog collar out of the box. Barry cocked an eyebrow. "That's a bit too big for Reavie, isn't it, Miss Sarah?" Barry asked as Miss Sarah admired her purchase. The collar was a bright red color and had small silver studs adorning it. It looked very expensive, but Miss Sarah only liked the best (when the price was reasonable). Miss Sarah giggled softly and looked at it again.

"It's not for Reavie, silly. It's for…another pet…" Miss Sarah smiled and held the collar close, with a dreamy look on her face. "This collar will keep people from harming him, especially Mr. Finn." Miss Sarah admired the collar and unfastened the clasp. She playfully put it around Barry's neck and snapped it shut. She giggled softly and started to take it off until Reaver reminded her that he was getting hungry. Miss Sarah hurried to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Reaver, having instructed Beryl to take Mrs. Hatch's purchases upstairs and to help her pack, looked over at Barry and snickered softly. Barry played with the collar for a bit, but the thought of taking it off didn't occur to him until Reaver pointed at it. "Well, this certainly seems correct, doesn't it? Miss Sarah certainly has a good reign on you, Hatch. Why, you tend to her like a dog and now…" Reaver tapped the leather collar with his finger. "…you are completely and utterly her pet. I shall have her set out a dish next to Reavie's." With that, Reaver laughed and left the foyer, leaving Barry to contemplate the collar.

_The Next Morning _

Barry and Miss Sarah accompanied Mrs. Hatch to the train station. Miss Sarah, dressed in a casual dress as opposed to her uniform, wanted to say good bye in person. Though she didn't want to leave, some things needed to be tended to back in Brightwall. She wanted to make sure the neighbor boy was actually feeding her cat like she was paying him to do and admittedly, she missed her knitting group. Mrs. Hatch looked like she couldn't wait to get back to the mountains.

Mrs. Hatch held a newspaper under her arm, which was amongst many books and magazines she had accumulated during her visit to read on the train ride back to Brightwall. The headline, which Mrs. Hatch seemed to take a sadistic interest in, was something about Ben Finn and his "retirement" from balverine hunting after recovering from a head injury.

"Tell that boss of yours thank you for having me." Mrs. Hatch hugged her son tightly and kissed him on the forehead. "You write me more often, Barry-bear. I will come back in the autumn. Miss Rosie told me I'll be needed around that time. Wouldn't say why. Fortune tellers…" Mrs. Hatch shrugged and picked up her carry-on bag. The train whistle alerted the passengers that the train was about to leave.

Mrs. Hatch sighed softly and put her gloves on. "Well, this is it, I suppose." She murmured. Mrs. Hatch kissed her son on the forehead again. "My son, know that I love you no matter what secrets you think you're keeping from me. I left you a gift on your dresser, some of that odd expensive tea you like so much." She hugged Barry tightly. "You had better snag Miss Sarah soon." She warned. "I want that girl to be my daughter-in-law and I want her to be the mother of my grandchildren. I won't accept anyone else."

Barry blushed deep red as Mrs. Hatch made her way to Miss Sarah. "Thank you for being my shopping buddy, Sarah dear." Mrs. Hatch hugged Miss Sarah tightly. "Look after my Barry-bear, dearie. He's a good man and I know he cares for you deeply." Mrs. Hatch whispered. Miss Sarah blushed as well.

Waving good bye as the train disembarked, Barry and Miss Sarah finally left the train station. "Your mother is a delightful woman." Miss Sarah commented, holding her purse close to her. Barry nodded, looking up at the sunny spring sky. "I can't wait to see her in the fall. I wonder why Rosie has been giving everyone else fortunes lately. Usually, she hates it when people ask her to tell their futures. Personally, I'd rather not know my future. If I knew what was going to happen, there would be no point in getting up in the morning."

Barry didn't say anything. He just walked with Miss Sarah into town. Miss Sarah didn't know his dirty secret and the less she knew, the better he felt. No one was happier than he was at this moment. Barry offered Miss Sarah his arm, which she happily took, and they made their way into Bowerstone Market. She had some errands to run, and he had to go check on a special order he made with the stonecutter.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, you guys!<strong>

**This chapter took more out of me than I had anticipated. Somewhere during the middle, this chapter took on a life of its own and let me tell you: I effin' love it haha.**

**So, during the making of this chapter, my very first Steam Summer Sale as a PC gamer took place. It was special to say the least *blush* and I got completely swept up in that trading card thing. It's a complete scam, but let me tell you…*Shows off numerous steam badges* I'm weak lol. Damn you, Steam for knowing my weakness for shiny things! Haha**

**Not much of an author's note tonight, as I have yet to sleep but I will leave you with this: Next chapter, we learn a little bit about the servant's past in the circus and being literally inches from death will cause two people to finally admit their feelings. Can you guess? If you've been paying attention, it should be obvious.**

**So my doves, was it worth the wait? I hope so. It's pretty long and I can't get enough of it. Tell me how I did! Just send me a review in the review thingy and don't forget to watch me on deviantArt for updates on all my fics, as well as my odd ramblings and musings. I also have a Steam account so if anyone is up for a Portal Co-op session or some Castle Crashers? Haha. Just ask and I'll let you have my name. I love keeping in touch with my fans and I absolutely LOVE making new friends.**

**And now, for my next trick…sleep! *falls on pillow***

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	30. An Engaging Evening

_Reaver's Servants_

An Engaging Evening

"Well, look at it this way, Hatch…" Reaver murmured to Barry, as they swung over the canyon suspended by a rope.

Reaver and Barry were still tied back to back and swinging in the wind as the bandit leader kept his foot on the lever that meant life or death in the raging river far below. Barry tried to look at his boss, but found the endeavor quite hard. He hated how calm Reaver was being, given the circumstances "…at least we can say we had a good time before we die an agonizing death at the bottom of this cliff. If the fall from this height and jagged rocks don't kill us, the rushing water will drown us and wash us out to sea. And if that doesn't…"

"Shut up!" the bandit leader shouted, leaning his foot against the lever a bit more. He fixed Reaver's hat to fall over his greasy mop of hair, which made Reaver furious, though he still kept some composure. Reaver and Barry's rope jolted a bit and they went down about a half a foot. "Save your breath for your last words. I'll at least grant you that. Now, have you two got anything to say?"

Reaver said nothing as he recovered from the recoil. Barry sighed, knowing it was now or never. "I have something to say, but not to you." Barry shouted at the bandits. Swinging his feet wildly, Barry made himself face the cages with the servants, in particular Miss Sarah's cage.

"Hurry up, Hatch. I want to die with a little dignity if you don't mind." Reaver shouted, staring at the rushing water below.

Barry swallowed and stared directly at Miss Sarah, who was now leaning against the bars of her cage. "Miss Sarah…"

_Earlier that day_

The early afternoon was bright, with birds singing and the warm weather finally coming in. With a grin on his face and nervous chuckle, Barry wrapped his gift to Miss Sarah and hid it under his pillow. It had finally arrived after weeks of waiting. It cost him half his savings and numerous unscheduled trips to Bowerstone to make sure it was just right, but it was finally here. Now, all that mattered was the planning.

Barry sat on his bed and sighed happily. He leaned back slowly and glanced at his ceiling. "Tonight, I'm going to make sure everything goes perfect." He whispered. Barry took the gift from under his pillow again and held it close to his heart. Tonight was going to be the night.

Barry hid the gift under his pillow again and decided to get his rounds done before Reaver came home. As he opened his door, the sound of servants shuffling around caught his attention. "Mr. Hatch!" he heard a small voice shout. Barry sighed and closed his bedroom door. Reaver always left Barry in charge of the manor when he wasn't home and Barry often felt that the servants could barely tie their get dressed without some sort of guidance. Turning around, Barry was met by Willa running towards him. "I've been looking everywhere for you!" she shouted.

"Did you even bother to knock on my door?" Barry asked, fixing his jacket while walking toward the main part of the house.

"It was literally the last place I was going to look. The first was the kitchen." Willa shuffled around in her pocket and took out a piece of paper as they walked together into the dining room. "I got everything on this list and I promise Miss Sarah doesn't suspect a thing. Now, are you going to tell us what this is all about?"

Barry chuckled softly and sighed softly. He motioned for Willa to stay where she was and went back to his room. When Barry emerged, the other servants were waiting with Willa (save for Miss Sarah). "I guess I do owe you all an explanation, seeing as you are going through all this trouble to help me…"

Reaching into his pocket, Barry pulled out a small green box. "I special ordered this a few weeks ago. It cost me half my savings and it had to be sent off to be specially made, but it is all worth it. No woman can refuse a gift of this magnitude. My dear servants…"

At that very moment downstairs, Reaver had decided to come home early. Instead of being greeted by Barry as he usually was, Miss Sarah was in the foyer to take his coat. Reaver thought this was odd, if not somewhat punishable in some way. "It's good to see you, Mr. Reaver. How was the office?" Miss Sarah asked only half paying attention. Reaver didn't answer. Miss Sarah hung his jacket on the coat hook by the door and put his cane in the umbrella stand.

Reaver couldn't help but notice that the manor was suspiciously quiet. Normally, the servants would be doing their rounds at this time. He was rarely home during the day so he at least hoped this is what they were doing during the day. "Miss Sarah, where is Hatch?" Reaver asked as Miss Sarah took his hat.

Miss Sarah looked around and shrugged. "I'm not sure, Mr. Reaver. I haven't seen him since this morning when he came down for breakfast. He didn't say much, though. He was talking to the others in a hushed tone, which I don't appreciate at the breakfast table." Miss Sarah went back into the kitchen with an air of disapproval about her.

Reaver didn't like being out of the loop in his own house. Straightening his vest, Reaver made his wait upstairs. Reavie, who had been napping on a chair in the foyer, woke up and followed behind her master closely. As the two came to the top of the steps, the sounds of servants murmuring (and not doing their jobs) caught Reaver's attention. Before he could clear his throat and get their attention, something about the conversation caught Reaver's ear.

"Well, I finally got the notice that my order was ready yesterday morning but I didn't get a chance to go get it until last evening. The moment I walked into the store, my order was already on the counter and waiting for my approval. It was everything I had hoped for and more. I just know she will love it…" Barry sounded excited. Reaver, who's tall stature made him tower over his servants, easily saw what his troublesome servants were gawking over.

Barry opened the little green box and revealed his gift. The servants gasped and the girls smiled. "Oh, how wonderful, Hatch!" shouted their boss. The servants turned their heads in shock, not realizing their boss was behind them. Reaver shoved his way through his servants and took the gift from Barry. "So, this lovely bobble is why you asked for tonight off. Well, I must say this is a long time coming. My, my, what a lovely piece! No expense spared, either! I didn't think I paid you this much, Hatch. I should really look over the books more often." Reaver's inspection made Barry very uneasy. "A bit small for my tastes but lucky for you Miss Sarah has tiny hands."

Barry fumbled with the box when Reaver tossed it back to him. Barry put the box back in his pocket and cleared his throat. "Well, at any rate, I have a big evening planned and I have to start getting everything ready. I have nothing but high hopes for tonight."

As the servants dispersed to finish their duties and Barry left to go back to his room, Reaver scratched his chin and wondered a bit. He didn't like this new attitude Barry had and he certainly didn't like how this event would shift the routine of his home. Reaver, though he should have been more used to it by now, didn't like change if it wasn't in his favor. He had been doing everything in his power to keep the status quo as it was, but it only seemed to drive Barry and Miss Sarah together. Reaver mumbled to himself a bit until he realized Rosie was still standing behind him, watching him.

"I assume I pay you to do something besides stand there like a post, Rosie." Reaver growled, turning to face Rosie. Rosie just stared at her boss. "Rosie, stop staring at me. You know I don't like that. Unless you have something you need to say, get back to work." Reaver started to leave the area but something stopped him. He looked behind himself and saw Rosie gone. He sighed and started for the stairs again but stopped when he noticed Rosie was now right in front of him.

"Mr. Reaver, something bad is going to happen tonight." Rosie blurted out.

"I know, dear Rosie. Hatch is going to make a complete ass out of himself in front of Miss Sarah and for once I will not be there to bail him out." Reaver straightened up his vest and started to leave. An odd force stopped him before he could take another step. Rosie stayed in her spot. "Rosie, be a dove and stop whatever it is you are doing. I am much too busy to deal with whatever it is you're doing to manipulate reality."

Reaver would deny it up and down, but he was admittedly very scared of Rosie. Reaver wasn't afraid of anything else in this world, but Rosie wasn't just a woman. She was a force of nature. "Mr. Reaver, please listen to me. Something very bad is going to happen tonight and I can't see what it is. All I know is this feeling is a very bad one. Tonight's events could affect not just us, but you as well if precautions aren't taken soon."

Waving his hand dismissively at Rosie, Reaver chuckled softly. "Oh my darling, charming, and very terrifying Rosie; the only thing that is going to happen tonight is that Hatch is going make himself look stupid and he'll once again come blubbering to me with his problems. But I suppose we should be supportive. I'm going to have to have a long talk with Hatch before the night is through. Rosie, have Miss Sarah make something light for dinner tonight since she'll obviously be too busy to do anything else." Reaver laughed and started toward his office.

Standing in the middle of the dining room, Rosie just sighed. She remembered reading an old book years ago about myths from foreign lands. In one story, a girl was given the gift of foresight but could only predict tragedies. To add insult to injury, she was doomed never to be believed until after the event. Rosie often felt like this girl from that myth. She sighed, accepted her boss's dismissive attitude towards her warning, and went back to her chores.

The rest of the day went off almost too perfectly. Rosie went to the garden with her laundry basket to gather the laundry, as she usually did this time of day. The sun wasn't setting anytime soon, but the chill of the night air could already be felt. Rosie could hear the birds in the distance and sighed softly. Reaver's linens were already dry, having sat in the sun on the line all day. Rosie still had that bad feeling, and had been trying to shake it all day. Not even distracting herself with her daily chores seemed to work.

At that moment, while taking a sheet down from the line, Rosie's head started to hurt. She grabbed the side of her head, taking a handful of her hair as she fell to her knees. Rosie gripped the sheet tightly, trying to keep her balance. The images in her head came at her at once. "No…" she murmured softly.

Across the lake, on a hill overlooking all of Millfields, two men sat at their campfire. They had been there for a few days, though none of the residents of the region seemed to notice (or care). Their brightly colored caravan sat open nearby, though it was empty. The wooden door had been replaced by a barred one with a lock and the bright colors seemed to have faded off the wood side. The two men had only ventured from their camp a few times for supplies, but most of the time it looked like they were looking for something.

If anyone had asked the children of Millfields, who often played near the hill the two men camped on, they would know these two men seemed up to something. Any house in the region would be ripe for picking by bandits. Most residents didn't even try to hide how well off they were. But these two seemed to be after a specific house and the specific spoils inside. One was a scrawny young man who seemed to be getting just a bit impatient with all the waiting. The older man, a bandit leader, was obviously stronger as he was doing the heavy lifting.

"What do you see?" The Bandit Leader asked in a gruff voice.

The Leader's Lackey took out his spyglass and peered across the lake. He saw Rosie, picking herself up from her latest vision. "I see one of them. A woman, it looks like. Tall woman, long black hair reaching down her back, and a gaze that looks like she can see into your very soul." The young man's voice quivered a bit saying that last line.

"Yep, that's Rosie. If she's here, that means the others aren't too far away. So, they did indeed get jobs with Reaver." The Bandit Leader nodded as he loaded the back of the caravan with supplies. The inside of the caravan needed to be spacious for what they had planned. "Rosie the Fortune Teller. She just showed up one day, years ago. She literally came in with the wind. Odd might be an understatement when it comes to Rosie. Our 'employer' said to use caution with all of them, especially if Rosie is still kicking around." The Bandit Leader shuddered a bit, trying to distract himself from the thoughts he was having.

The Leader's Lackey swallowed a bit and went back to his spyglass. "A man is coming over to help her up. About the same height, slight muscly build…"

"Gordon, if I'm not mistaken. He was one of the acrobats. He was quite nimble on the trapeze. The ladies seemed to love him." The Bandit Leader finished what he was doing and joined the young man. "He's an agile man, can outrun anyone. Gordon showed up about a year or so after Rosie showed up. Our employer saw his skill and put him in training with the acrobats. It was all second nature to Gordon. He thought no one knew, but he has the hots for Rosie. He masks his crush because he knows Rosie would never choose him. Or perhaps he's scared of her. I don't blame him."

Keeping his spyglass open, The Leader's Lackey pointed again. "Someone just left the house. A child?" he asked.

The Bandit Leader shook his head. "No, that's Willa, Olaf's daughter. Unlike the others, she was born into circus life. Her mother died when she was a baby and Olaf spent any years training her to take over for him when he retired. For someone so tiny, she packs quite a punch. She didn't become acquainted with the others until after Olaf 'disappeared'. Up until then, she was staunchly loyal to our employer like the rest of the troupe. She was devastated when Olaf 'disappeared' and found something of a second family with those deserters."

"A lady…" The Leader's Lackey said. "…she's holding a basket and looks like she's asking that man Gordon for something. She's not as tall as the other woman but taller than the girl…"

"You must mean Sarah." The Bandit Leader took the spyglass and nodded with a disgusting smile. "Yep, that is indeed the lovely and pure-hearted Miss Sarah. Our employer will be most happy to see her. She started working for the circus a few months after Gordon came on. Miss Sarah was first brought in to work as the animal caretaker. One day, the Magician's assistant 'quit' and Miss Sarah was the only one around. The Magician taught her simple tricks and eventually took her on. She came to the circus with only the clothes on her back and a purse with what we think is money she stole from her family. Someone like her doesn't just role in from nowhere. She came from money, looked like she was taken care of."

"Arranged marriage gone sour by the sound of it. Seen it before." The Leader's Lackey said taking back his spyglass. "A girl with glasses…"

The Bandit Leader didn't flinch. "Beryl the Contortionist, and a bloody good one, too. She used to come around and help deliver wine from her grandparent's vineyard before she joined up. She was already pretty flexible before joining and training with the other contortionists over the years really did wonders. I've never seen another human being bend like Beryl. Beryl may not look like much with those glasses on, but she can twist in ways you've never dreamed of!"

The two men nodded to each other and then walked over to a small crate. On top of the crate were old flyers advertising circus acts. "Yep, it's them…" The Leader's Lackey said softly, lifting the pile gently. The young man shifted through the flyers and picked up each one. Each one advertised each servant's act with unneeded grandeur. "Why does your employer want these people? They sound like more trouble than they are worth."

The Bandit Leader sniffled and growled softly. "They owe a debt that only their lives can repay. You know the old saying about burning your bridges? Well, when they suspected that the Ringleader was up to no good, those deserters hatched a plan. They took what little they had, whatever the Ringleader didn't sell to pay off his debtors, and burned everything to the ground. Our employer lost everything. He didn't even get to claim the insurance on his business because it was believed he started the fire himself. He knew it was them. They started the fire in some kind of blind revenge and left him to die. He wants them to pay for ruining him and he's paying handsomely to get them back alive."

Nodding, The Leader's Lackey looked at the posters again. These five people caused a lot of trouble and they were worth more than he could imagine. Their only obstacle was Reaver. Their plan was to wait until night and sneak up on them. The less they had to deal with Reaver or his Dragonstomper .48, the better. "We'll need to be careful. These aren't just any old servants. They happen to be under the employ of Reaver and he's very protective about his 'possessions'. We wait until nightfall, and then we get the band ready. I'd bet they will go down fighting to protect Reaver and each other. We sneak up on them and that's when we strike."

Deciding to bide their time, the two men sat on the cliff and watched.

After Miss Sarah had left their line of sight, the other servants gathered together. The servants seemed to be plotting something as well. "Mr. Hatch told me to keep Miss Sarah busy until the surprise is ready, which should give you guys time to set up. Remember, we have a tight schedule to stick to." said Willa, barely tall enough to be in the huddle. "Does everyone know what to do?"

The others nodded. Willa nodded too and with a directorial leadership, clenched her fists. "Alright, Rosie and Gordon will set up the decorations. Remember, Miss Sarah likes orchids and lilac flowers so find a way to incorporate them." Willa pointed to Rosie, who nodded along with Gordon. "Beryl, you're in charge of music. Mr. Reaver recently bought one of those new-fangled 'gramophone' things and it's supposed to play music. Set it up in the agreed upon spot and make sure it works." Beryl nodded as she fixed her glasses. "I've expertly tricked Miss Sarah into making her own surprise dinner, so when Miss Sarah leaves the kitchen later to 'help' Mr. Hatch with something, I'll sneak it out. Does everyone remember where to set everything up?"

The servants nodded again. "On the hill in the clearing before going to Driftwood; it's been cleaned up and the bandits should be gone." The others said in unison. Willa nodded and folded her arms.

"What will you have me do, Little Bit?" asked Reaver. The servants shrieked in terror, not realizing their boss had snuck into their huddle. With a smirk and a soft guffaw, Reaver stood up straight and fixed his vest. The servants just stared at him. "I say, I hate to be left out of the festivities. I see why all the chores were done early and why everyone has been standing around all day. It seems Miss Sarah and I have been left out of the loop." Reaver bent down slightly to Willa's eye level. "You know I don't like being left out of things in my own home. So, what can I do to keep Hatch from falling over his own feet tonight?"

Willa swallowed loudly. "Well, Mr. Reaver, we've got everything covered. But if you want to escort Miss Sarah up to the clearing so Mr. Hatch has more time to get ready…"

Reaver laughed loudly. "I'll keep the dear occupied, don't worry about that. But there is something I must discuss with you all." Reaver stood up straight, watching his servants stand in attention. "It has occurred to me that certain…future events are going to disturbed the odd balance we've somehow become accustomed to. Now, my lovelies; I don't like change, but it is something that can't be avoided. I've seen it, I've lived it, and I've even fought it on one occasion I choose not to mention. But know this: I support love in all its fashions. Personally, I think the entire idea of Hatch even being worthy of someone as sweet and lovely as Miss Sarah is ludicrous in itself. It's been established that he feels strongly for her and my dears, this next part breaks my heart. If tonight goes as horribly as I expect it to, one of them will have to go…"

The servants gasped. Reaver shook his head and placed his hand over his heart. The very idea that Reaver's heart could break was the ludicrous idea. "I'm sorry, my doves; but I refuse to sit through any awkwardness and bad blood between servants. I've seen it before and trust me when I say that the mess, metaphorical and physical in the last case I remember, is not a fun one to clean up. I still have no idea how they got blood on the ceiling, but that's a story for another day."

Reaver sighed, as if he was actually dreading making such a hard decision. "Hatch has been my loyal assistant for years, but Miss Sarah is the best cook I've ever had. I really don't feel like hiring new people for either job, but if it keeps the status quo from shifting then it is an undertaking I will have to…well, undertake." Reaver chuckled a bit and looked at his servants with a devious glint in his eyes. "Depending on how bad tonight goes, I might have to get rid of both! Think about that tonight when you're setting up your little celebration. I will be inside…waiting for this entire event the crumble around your feet."

The servants looked at each other with worried looks. "Damned if we do, damned if we don't." Gordon sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I think the pressure is on now, you guys. If things go bad tonight, and let's face it we've all accepted that it probably will, both Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah could lose their jobs. We promised to stick together no matter what happens, and that means if Miss Sarah goes, we go. It also means being out of a job again. So, let's work to make this night perfect!"

The others nodded in agreement. "Okay, let's do this!" Willa shouted excitedly. The servants ran off in their own separate directions.

Inside, Barry left his room, making sure no one was around. He made sure his gift was still in his pocket before tip-toeing out of the hallway. He pressed himself against the doorframe and made sure no one was in the dining room. Counting to three, Barry stepped lightly and made his way to the doorway leading to the stairs. He slowly made his way down the stairs and stood in the middle of the foyer. Thinking stealthy, Barry hopped behind a house plant and then behind a nearby chair.

The door to the kitchen was open slightly, meaning Miss Sarah was not there or she was just finishing her cleaning. Barry slowly made his way to the door and opened it slightly wider. The kitchen was empty which meant he was in the clear. Miss Sarah was nowhere around and now he had time to get his surprise ready. "Good, everything is clear. Now things can get started."

"What can get started, Mr. Hatch?" Miss Sarah chirped from behind Barry. Barry jumped in surprise, turning around fast. Miss Sarah was holding an armful of dish rags and her apron looked dirty. "I spilled some of Mr. Reaver's lunch on the counter and I went to get more dish rags. Is there something you need from the kitchen?" she asked, making her way past Barry.

Barry, trying not to panic, swallowed loudly. "NO! I mean…no, Miss Sarah. I'm just doing my rounds. Carry on…" Barry stepped backward a few steps and ran outside.

Miss Sarah cocked an eyebrow and put her hand on her hip. "Why is everyone acting so strange today?" Miss Sarah asked herself as she cleaned off the counter. She heard the front doors slam shut and the sound of boots running away against the pavement outside. "It feels like everyone is avoiding me." Miss Sarah put her hand on her forehead and counted to three in her thoughts. "I'm not sick, and I think I'd remember if my dress was tucked into my stockings again." Miss Sarah turned her head to examine her backside.

It was at this time that Reaver walked in. "Tuck your dress into your knickers again, Miss Sarah?" he asked as Miss Sarah turned to face him. Miss Sarah straightened up her uniform. Reaver watched Miss Sarah as she finished cleaning up the kitchen. Miss Sarah was a little nervous about being watched while she worked, but she couldn't shoo away her own boss. Reaver leaned against the now clean counter and smiled at Miss Sarah every time she passed by him.

"Are you still hungry, Mr. Reaver?" she asked softly, putting a now clean bowl away.

Reaver shook his head. "Oh, I'm quite full from that delicious lunch you made. I was just thinking how someone hasn't snatched you up and made you a married woman yet." Reaver chuckled softly. Miss Sarah blushed and continued to clean. "I must admit, though; the very idea of someone stealing the best cook I've ever had makes me somewhat…jealous. I feel dirty thinking about you cooking for someone else, Miss Sarah. I do hope you'll promise to never leave my kitchen." Reaver lean backward onto the counter and smiled an upside down smile at his cook.

Miss Sarah laughed softly and waved him off the counter. "Mr. Reaver, I don't think me or the others are leaving anytime soon. This is a good job and you pay well. For the first time since we left the circus, I've actually been able to put some money away in savings in case of emergencies."

Reaver smiled a wicked smile and walked around the counter. Miss Sarah was just finishing up when she turned around to Reaver being uncomfortably close to her. "Miss Sarah, your role in this house is about to change and I do believe I'm scared of it. Change is something I'm used to, but it's not something I like. Granted, change is inevitable but I want to make it clear that sometimes change is bad." Reaver lifted Miss Sarah's chin with two fingers and smiled a smile that oozed evil. "Miss Sarah, I like the status quo here in Lakeview, but just remember when you have to make any life changing decisions today, tomorrow, or even, shall we say, tonight, that you and the other party aren't just effecting your own lives."

Miss Sarah instinctively puckered her lips, but Reaver left her standing there wanting. Wanting for what, she didn't know. "I guess Lakeview Manor is in need of a lady of the house, yes?"

Reaver left the kitchen, leaving Miss Sarah blushing. "Lady of the house?" she asked herself. Miss Sarah blushed deeper at the thought of being any closer to her boss than she was just a few minutes ago. In fact, the very idea seemed to make her stomach turn. Miss Sarah wasn't much of a drinker, but she soon found herself taking a small nip of the cooking sherry.

Outside, the servants marched up the hill toward the clearing where the gypsy camp used to be. Gordon carried the table, Rosie dragged the two chairs, Beryl fumbled with the gramophone (it was heavier than she thought it would be), and Willa carried a box of decorations. Barry was already in the clearing, waiting. "Alright, good; let's get this show on the road." He murmured, directing everyone where to go. Gordon cleared away any spare twigs and branches from the area while Rosie decorated the table.

"The orchids and lilacs haven't bloomed yet, but we have plenty of sweet peas and gardenias. They are her third and fourth favorite flowers." Rosie explained to Barry, holding up a basket containing the mentioned flowers. Barry sighed and motioned where Rosie could spread the petals. Rosie plucked some petals off some of the flowers and started sprinkling them on the bridge. Rosie stopped in the middle of the bridge when something across the lake caught her attention.

A light swinging with the breeze could be seen and Rosie felt something familiar about it. It reminded her of the lanterns she and the others used to keep on their wagons when their old circus traveled. Rosie sometimes found herself missing her old wagon from the circus, but not the lantern that hung outside. Rosie often wondered what she would do if she ever found herself out of Reaver's service. She wondered if the other servants thought about it too.

Rosie smiled softly remembering how happy she was traveling to each new city in her little circus wagon. She didn't miss the old circus, not by a long shot; but people would always stop by her wagon when she was finished setting up to receive a fortune. Her craft was spotty at best back then, and though she had been practicing, Rosie still felt uneasy about telling people their futures. Being a seer was a risky business and most people have tried to use her abilities to their own gain. Rosie, not surprisingly, caught on very quickly.

Resuming what she was doing, Rosie kept the light in her peripheral vision. Something was off about that light and she didn't like it. Before she could finish, Rosie dropped her basket and grabbed her head. Her eyes went blank and she fell to her knees. Beryl, who was helping Willa put up some strings of flowers, saw Rosie fall to her knees. Beryl let go of the ladder that held Willa up and ran to Rosie. Willa soon found herself without a ladder and swinging her little legs to keep from falling from the tree.

Not noticing Barry running to help Willa, Beryl helped Rosie up. "Rosie, what's wrong? You've been acting strange all day." Beryl murmured. Rosie dusted herself off and looked down at Beryl. Rosie easily towered over Beryl. "Rosie?" Beryl waved her hand in front of Rosie, trying to get her attention.

"Beryl, have you ever wondered what you'd do if you left Mr. Reaver's employment?" Rosie asked. Beryl shook her head, wondering where Rosie was going with this. "If we do end up leaving, I think I might want to start traveling again. Like we used to in the circus, remember?" Rosie picked up her basket and finished tossing the rest of the petals on the bridge. "Maybe I'll take some of my savings and buy a wagon from one of those 'Eco-warriors' that live in Driftwood and travel Albion again."

Rosie left Beryl by the bridge with a confused look on her face. Noting that the sun was setting and it would be time for Miss Sarah to come out soon, Beryl decided to give the gramophone a try. Barry had her set it up under the tree where the table was going to go. Before she could get past the first post, two hands emerged from the bushes and grabbed Beryl. One hand was covering her mouth, keeping her from screaming. The hands yanked Beryl into the bush without a sound.

The sun was starting to set and everything was almost ready. "Where is Beryl?" Barry shouted, dusting off the table. Reaver, who decided to join them (but not actually help in any way), sat in one of the chairs at the table with Reavie on his lap. He was enjoying watching everyone do all the hard work, which is why he employed the servants in the first place. Reavie jumped from Reaver's lap and onto the table, licking her right paw. Barry stopped and glared at the cat. "Reavie, off!" he shouted, pointing in no particular direction. Reavie just stared at him and went back to cleaning herself.

Reavie looked at Barry after a few seconds and gave him her famous, "I'm Reaver's cat and I'm better than you" look. Reaver, who helped himself to the wine Willa brought up, chuckled softly. Reavie wrapped her tail around her legs and lay down on the table. Barry grabbed the cat by her nape and placed her on the ground. When Barry turned around, she jumped right back on the table. Reaver laughed loudly and stood up. He looked around and noticed he was indeed a servant short (not counting Miss Sarah).

"Beryl?" he shouted, trying to look concerned. "Maybe she went to go get Miss Sarah. She should know I've got that job. Tell Little Bit that I'm going to go fetch Miss Sarah and that she needs to go sneak the food out soon." Reaver left the clearing and went towards the manor. Willa followed behind closely.

After a few minutes Barry turned to see Willa running toward him, huffing loudly, carrying a large silver platter over her head. "Here's the food. She already had it on the platter with the lid closed." Willa shouted, out of breath. Barry lifted the silver platter lid and glared at Willa. Barry kept the lid close to him as Willa looked down. "I was wondering why it was so light…" Willa murmured, realizing there was nothing on the platter. "Or a better version of this story would be she was preparing the platter and the roast wasn't finished."

Barry didn't have to say anything. Willa smiled nervously and ran down the path carrying the platter. Willa reached the bottom of the hill when two shadows caught her attention. She looked behind her and cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, who's there?" she asked. She didn't have time to react, though she tried to distract the two by throwing the platter at them. Before she could do anything else, she had a big hand on her mouth and a rope around her body.

Gordon looked over at Barry, who kept looking at his pocket watch. Willa shouldn't have been gone this long. Rosie finished setting up the gramophone and looked over at Barry. Reavie was still on the table, giving Barry a nasty look. He tried to shoo her away, but Reavie didn't budge. He finally gave up and sighed. Barry reached into his pocket and pulled out his gift to Miss Sarah. "Do you think she'll like it?" Barry asked the cat, as if expecting a response.

Eventually, Gordon left and came back with the dinner Willa never brought up. "I didn't see Willa or Beryl anywhere. I wonder where they got to." Gordon murmured to Rosie, as she finished setting up the table. "I know Miss Sarah is going to have a fit once she sees the roast missing."

Gordon decided the table needed some roses and went off toward the manor again. The garden was quiet, which would have been a more perfect spot for Barry's surprise. Gordon tried to convince Barry to have it in the garden, but Barry couldn't be persuaded otherwise. He claimed there was something magical about the clearing where the gypsy camp used to be and he wanted Miss Sarah to feel it tonight. Gordon rolled his eyes and started collecting roses.

Reaching for another set of pruning shears, Gordon found it odd that his spare set wasn't on the table he normally put them on. He didn't have time to think about it when a shovel smacked him on the head, knocking him out. Gordon let go of the roses as the world went dark and two men dragged him away.

"This is a disaster!" Barry shouted to Rosie, who finished preparing the two meals. "Miss Sarah will be up here any minute and the other servants have bailed on me!" he panicked. Rosie sat in the chair next to his and patted Barry's back when he slumped over. Rosie caught the energy of something bad coming. She got up without a word and left the clearing. "And now she's leaving!" he shouted to Reavie, who was batting her little paw at the green box on the table.

Rosie kept walking until she made her way to the garden. She sat on a bench near some roses that had fallen on the ground. She sat in a lotus meditation position and closed her eyes. "I will not struggle." She said to the approaching shadows. "I know who you are and why you've come. You're under the employ of our former boss to retrieve us and the only thing standing in your way is Mr. Reaver. I will not fight you, because you will take me either way. But know this: you will fail and it will be your own incompetence, like always, that leads you to this failure." Picking up Rosie was easier now that she was in a meditative state. They knew to be wary of Rosie when she meditated, but they had a time table to fill and now only one remained.

On the hill, Barry opened and closed the gift box multiple times. Despite everything going wrong this evening, he still had hope for this. Reavie sat on the table and softly batted at the box with her paw. Barry took the box away and sighed softly. He took the gift from the box and stared at it longingly. As Barry smiled at the beautiful piece of art in his hand, something tickled his nose. He sniffled a little bit and finally let out a loud sneeze that knocked the gift from his hand and scared a few birds away.

"Oh no!" he shouted, diving for the gift. Reavie jumped in front of him and knocked the gift across the ground. "Hey, stop it!" Barry shouted, chasing Reavie and his gift. Reavie picked up the gift in her mouth and started running toward the bridge. "Get back here you damn cat!" Barry yelled, giving chase.

Reavie darted across the bridge and down the hill, finally stopping at the manor after a long chase. Before Reavie could think up her escape, Barry grabbed her up and gripped her tight. "Alright, you little bother; hand it over!" Barry demanded, squeezing Reavie tightly. He was expecting Reavie to give it back but in the little cat's panic, the unimaginable happened.

Scared to death, Reavie swallowed Barry's gift.

Barry stood there, holding the cat with outstretched arms. The only sound being that of the wind from the storm coming in. Barry's eye twitched as the cat stared at him. The emotion coursing through him at the moment was unlike anything any human could comprehend or begin to comprehend. His entire body was number and his blood felt cold.

"You stupid cat! You swallowed Miss Sarah's gift!" Barry shouted, shaking Reavie. "Spit it up! Spit it up right now!" he shouted.

"Mr. Hatch, what are you doing?!" Barry heard a soft voice shout. Barry stopped shaking Reavie and turned to see Miss Sarah and Reaver, standing at the front door. Reaver, who found this amusing, chuckled softly while Miss Sarah thought the scene was horrifying. "What are you doing to poor little Reavie?" Miss Sarah cooed, running to Barry and taking the cat from him. Miss Sarah cooed softly and hugged Reavie close. "Mr. Reaver told me you had something for me, and I certainly hope it wasn't that spectacle!"

Reaver just stood back and laughed. Barry tried to defuse the situation. "Miss Sarah, I promise you, strangling the cat was not my intended idea. Reavie swallowed my gift!"

Miss Sarah snuggled Reavie close. "A gift?" she asked softly. "Reavie, do you have something for me?" Miss Sarah held Reavie up and shook her softly. Reavie just blinked. "Mr. Hatch, what could be so small that Reavie would want to eat it?"

Before Barry could say another word, the sound of a gunshot caught their attention. The two looked at Reaver, who patted his sides. "Well, don't look at me, my doves. For once, I'm not the one who fired. I must say, whoever did sure has impeccable timing. That was getting awkward." Reaver moaned.

Miss Sarah gasped softly and pointed toward the gate of the manor. "I know you!" she shouted. Barry and Reaver looked in the direction of the gate and saw two men standing there with what looked like an army of bandits behind them. "You used to work for my old ringleader!"

The Bandit Leader laughed. "It's good to see you too, Miss Sarah. What's it been, 'bout a year or so since you and your friends burned your bridges and left? Not your bridges, but our tents! You and your friends owe a very substantial debt and we've been dispatched to make you lot pay. Come quietly, Sarah dear, and let's do this nice and painless like."

Miss Sarah didn't move. Barry got in front of her and motioned for her to stay behind him. Reavie, still in Miss Sarah's arms, hissed loudly at the bandits. Reaver decided to take it from here. "My good gentleman, let's all be civilized, shall we? Whatever debt my beloved circus rejects have incurred, I'm sure I can make them pay up. I'll just deduct it from their pay and you lot can leave my property without doing any damage. Now, let's all have a nice quiet sit down and discuss this like men, shall we?"

"The time for talk is over, you fop!" The Bandit Leader shouted. He whistled for The Leader's Lackey to get Miss Sarah and The Leader's Lackey obliged. "No amount of money can pay back what they owe. Their former boss wants to see them and settle the score himself!"

Reaver rubbed his chin, making a mental note to shave before we went to bed that night. "Well, that certainly is disappointing. And here I thought we could be rational adults. _C'est la vie_, I suppose. But I cannot allow you to take my servants. Miss Sarah, show them your brand please." Reaver clapped his hands into the air. Miss Sarah, sighing as she turned around, loosened her apron and pulled down the collar of her uniform to reveal her shoulder blade. "See? That is the official insignia of Reaver Industries. She and the others are my employees and I demand you return the others at once!"

The bandits looked at each other and laughed. "Come with us quietly, Miss Sarah, and we won't hurt your boss or lover boy over there." The Bandit Leader laughed.

Reaver smirked softly and patted his side. "Hatch, would you and Miss Sarah be dears and let me handle this insubordinate malcontent and his lackeys? I'll meet up with you as soon as I'm finished here. And Miss Sarah, when you find the others, tell them the damages done to my property for having to save their sorry hides once again is coming out of everyone's pay."

The Bandit Leader gave the bandits the signal and they started their attack. Barry grabbed Miss Sarah's hand and ran for the gate, dodging the oncoming bandits. The least of Barry's worries was his boss. Barry ran with Miss Sarah toward the path to the clearing he planned the special dinner in and stopped at the foot of the hill. Both of them were breathing heavily. "Should we go back for Mr. Reaver?" Miss Sarah asked right before the sounds of gunshots filled the air behind them.

"No, he's got it covered." Barry mumbled. "Miss Sarah, there's something I need to tell you and it's obviously not going to wait." Barry motioned for Miss Sarah to follow him up the hill. He wasn't surprised to see his planned celebration was in ruins, as if the place had been ransacked. "I planned all this for you, but as you can see it could have gone a lot better."

Miss Sarah put Reavie down at her feet and glanced at Barry. They didn't notice Reavie hissing at something in the bushes. Barry swallowed hard and took Miss Sarah's hands in his own. "Miss Sarah, I wanted to have everything ready for you and I wanted this to be a magical night not just for you, but for everyone. I decided that someone else's routine wasn't going to rule my life anymore. Miss Sarah, I wanted to thank you for the advice you gave me and I wanted you to know that…"

He was having trouble with the words, but Barry knew he had to say it. "Miss Sarah…I…" Barry was fighting with his words and didn't see Miss Sarah cover her mouth and hold back a scream. He did, however, feel the shovel hit him on the head and felt himself hit the ground. Barry felt the world spin as everything started to go black. He saw some forms grab Miss Sarah and her screams were somewhat gargled as Barry attempted to stay conscious. He felt himself being lifted up and then nothing but black.

A few hours later, Barry awoke to the feeling of the ground moving. He attempted to bring his hand up to rub his throbbing head but immediately noticed they were tied to his side. He was also tied to something. "Well, it's about time you rejoined the living, Hatch. I was getting a little bored sitting here attempting conversation with the walls." That something was some_one_, and that _someone_ was his boss. Reaver and Barry were tied back to back and inside a moving wagon.

Barry shook his dizziness away and looked around. "How did…how did we get here?" he asked, still somewhat slurring his words. Barry looked around and saw a small cage in the corner containing Reavie. What their captors wanted with her, he didn't know.

"Well, we were tied together and now we're awaiting our ultimate fate." Reaver answered simply. "They clonked you on the noggin with a shovel and tied us together."

"How did you get captured, Master?" Barry asked, attempting to struggle against the binds.

"I'd rather not talk about it. Not my finest moment, let's just say." Reaver answered simply. "They took my gun and my hat…" he pouted. Reaver looked attempted to struggle out of the binds as well. "Well, this marks the third time I've been tied up and left to the elements. Last time I was left in the middle of a swamp in my underpants. Ha-ha! Such jolly good fun that was finding my way back! Remember that day, Hatch?"

Barry nodded, still recovering from a headache. "It was the day I learned how to handle a blowtorch. At least this time it's not steel chains." Barry mumbled, resting his head against the wagon wall. Barry sighed and thought about the wasted evening. The dinner was ruined, his surprise was eaten by a cat, and now he was tied to his boss awaiting his fate.

"Oh, woe is Reaver! To end a magnificent life such as mine in a way! I always figured, if the day came that I did die, it'd be in my bed; covered in beautiful men and women." Reaver sighed softly and looked longingly out the single window the wagon had. "Truth be told, Hatch; I always figured you'd be beaten to death over a bad poker game."

While Barry could see that happening, he knew his preferred way to die wasn't being tied to his boss during the actual act of dying itself. Barry figured the universe decided to play one more cosmic practical joke on him before it completely ruined the evening. "I wonder if the others are okay…" Barry murmured as the wagon came to a halt. "I wonder what kind of fate awaits them. I'm also curious as to what kind of fate awaits us as well. I suppose we'll find out in a bit."

"Now, Hatch, try to think of the positives: You've lived a pretty conventional and pedestrian life up until now so you really aren't leaving much behind. You didn't have a chance to make an ass out of yourself in front of the woman you love, so there's that too. And best of all, you get to die being tied your magnificent and distinguished boss, Reaver. Personally, I couldn't think of a better way to leave this mortal plain. You shall be the envy of all the wretched souls that await us in the eternal abyss."

Now Barry was hoping whatever fate these bandits had in store for him was quick and painless. The wagon door swung open and the two men were met by a thunder clap. Of course it would start raining, when wasn't it raining in Albion? The bandits wasted no time dragging the two tied up men toward a cliff overlooking a canyon. Reaver wasn't sure exactly where they were, but knew it couldn't be too far as the wagon trip only lasted a few hours. The bandit leader had Reaver and Barry strung up on an industrial hook attached to a wench and pulley. The servants, all in individual cages, were taken off another wagon.

The bandit leader smiled and took out Reaver's hat. Reaver growled when the leader put the fine silk hat on his mop of a head. "We'll rest here for the night. In the morning, we take you five to the ship and it's off to a lovely reunion. But first, you lot get to watch your boss and the red-headed lover boy over there drop to their doom. We'll head to the docks in the morning. I know a gun shop around there that will pay top gold for this lovely piece and not ask questions." The bandit leader took out Reaver's Dragonstomper .48 and unloaded the bullets onto the ground. This infuriated Reaver even more.

The servants, with panicked looks all around, murmured their disapproval and concern for Reaver and Barry. The servants were far from the cliff's edge, but not much safer. They were each in their own individual cages, trying to think of any way out. Reavie was still in the small bird cage, hanging from a light post. Only Rosie seemed calm, as she sat on the floor of her cage in a meditative state. Miss Sarah kept her eyes locked on Barry and her hands over her heart.

"Well, look at it this way, Hatch…" Reaver murmured to Barry, as they swung over the canyon suspended by a rope.

Reaver and Barry were still tied back to back and swinging in the wind as the bandit leader kept his foot on the lever that meant life or death in the raging river far below. Barry tried to look at his boss, but found the endeavor quite hard. He hated how calm Reaver was being, given the circumstances "…at least we can say we had a good time before we die an agonizing death at the bottom of this cliff. If the fall from this height and jagged rocks don't kill us, the rushing water will drown us and wash us out to sea. And if that doesn't…"

"Shut up!" the bandit leader shouted, leaning his foot against the lever a bit more. He fixed Reaver's hat to fall over his greasy mop of hair, which made Reaver furious, though he still kept some composure. Reaver and Barry's rope jolted a bit and they went down about a half a foot. "Save your breath for your last words. I'll at least grant you that. Now, have you two got anything to say?"

Reaver said nothing as he recovered from the recoil. Barry sighed, knowing it was now or never. "I have something to say, but not to you." Barry shouted at the bandits. Swinging his feet wildly, Barry made himself face the cages with the servants, in particular Miss Sarah's cage.

"Hurry up, Hatch. I want to die with a little dignity if you don't mind." Reaver shouted, staring at the rushing water below.

Barry swallowed and stared directly at Miss Sarah, who was now leaning against the bars of her cage. "Miss Sarah…"

"Miss Sarah…" Barry shouted over the sounds of the rushing water below and the storm approaching. While he wanted to do this in private, Barry knew that he'd never get this chance ever again and decided it was all or nothing right now. He swallowed hard and looked around, deciding everyone might as well be paying attention.

"Miss Sarah, I was trying my hardest to make this night special for you, because you deserve it. From the moment I met you, I knew you'd have a huge impact on my life. I knew I wanted to devote my entire life to making you happy and seeing you smile. Miss Sarah, I love you…"

Though no one was surprised by this revelation, Miss Sarah still gasped softly. Reaver scoffed and looked below, wondering how long it would take them to fall from this height. Barry ignored Reaver's sounds of disapproval and stayed focused.

"When you and the others first walked into the manor, I had no idea how much my life would change. Every morning when I greet you in the kitchen, it fills me with such unimaginable joy to see you smile. Every evening when we say good night and go down separate hallways, it breaks my heart because I'm not falling asleep next to you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met and no one can begin to compare to you in my eyes. Your kindness and your sincerity only add to it your loveliness. To me, you're the perfect woman and I don't care who disputes me because I'll argue it until the day I die. I know don't deserve your friendship and I certainly don't deserve your affection, but I want you to know before I die this horrible death that I have always loved you and not even the cold embrace of death can change that. I could die like this now, but I need to know, even if it's only for a minute that I have this joy because then it would make my death less meaningless. Miss Sarah…"

Barry swallowed hard, mustered up all his nerve, and finally shouted with all his might: "I LOVE YOU, SARAH! WILL YOU MARRY ME!?"

Wide-eyed, everyone (Bandits included and Reaver to the best of his abilities) stared at Barry. No one was sure what to make of this. Barry felt like a fool, but at least he finally got a chance to say his peace before the rushing water in the canyon below claimed him. It went quiet and the wind blew louder as the storm started to set in. The awkward whistling gave him little comfort and Barry sighed softly, finally feeling defeated. Barry felt his words were wasted until he heard happy whimpering coming from the area of the cages.

Miss Sarah, crying tears of joy, cupped her hands over her heart. "Oh, Mr. Hatch! Yes! Yes, a million times, yes! Yes, I will marry you!" she shouted, blowing a kiss to Barry.

Laughing triumphantly, Barry wiggled around in his ropes. "S-She…she said yes!" he shouted behind him at Reaver. Reaver groaned softly and rolled his eyes. The servants clapped awkwardly, considering they were still in cages. Rosie hadn't moved since being put in her cage though no one seemed to be paying attention to her anyway. Barry kicked his legs up a few times in his celebrating. The Bandit Leader decided to cut the celebration short. "She said yes!" Barry kept repeating. "She said…"

The Bandit Leader kicked the lever, dropping Reaver and Barry into the canyon. "YEEEEEeeeesssss…" Barry's voice echoed off the canyon as they fell.

"Mr. Hatch!" Miss Sarah shouted, reaching her hand out of her cage. Finally moving for the first time in hours, Rosie's eyes jolted open, glowing brightly. With a push of her arms, a violent force yanked all the doors off each of the cages, freeing the servants.

Not needing instructions, the servants attacked the bandits with whatever they could find. Willa yanked a bar off her cage and plowed her way through the bandits, making her way to the lever. Gordon grabbed a nearby tree branch and stood in front of Rosie's cage, fending off any bandits that tried to interrupt her concentration. He didn't know what Rosie was doing but he didn't want her to stop. Beryl leaped and bounded over and under her pursuers until she found herself cornered. When they charged her full force, Beryl waited for just the right moment to do a full split and lay herself flat on the ground. Her pursuers found themselves inadvertently running off the cliff. Reavie attached herself to a bandit's face and shrieked loudly as she attacked with her claws unsheathed.

Willa, after beating the bandit guarding the lever senseless with her weapon, grabbed the lever and started to pull it. She had to do it slowly, knowing the sudden jolt would snap Reaver and Barry's necks. Of course, the sound of the rope snapping made that a moot point.

Their yelling getting more distant, Reaver and Barry faced an inescapable doom. They soon felt themselves slow down, as an odd aura surrounded them. The force felt familiar and in their minds, both men agreed it was Rosie. Rosie's eyes stopped glowing and she fell against the bars of her cage. "I…I don't have the energy to…" Rosie yawned.

The aura dissipated and the men started falling again. Miss Sarah tried to focus on the task. Being a former magician's assistant she knew a few tricks, but had never made anything bigger than a rabbit or a deck of cards appear before. Knowing that now wasn't the time to point out her own shortcomings, Miss Sarah decided to try something she had never tried before. She closed her eyes, concentrated deeply on Reaver and Barry, and clapped her hands together loudly. Her clap echoed all around them. In a puff of smoke, Reaver and Barry appeared above the servants and immediately fell to the ground with a loud thud. Willa and Beryl ran to their boss and untied him and Barry. Gordon helped Rosie up and met with the others.

"Mr. Reaver, are you two alright?" Willa asked as Reaver shook the ropes off.

"Surely you jest, Little Bit." Reaver scoffed, dusting himself off. "Unless you weren't paying attention, Hatch and I were about to meet our grim demise at the bottom of the canyon." Reaver looked around and heard the scampering of the retreating Bandit Leader. Grabbing a dagger off a nearby knocked out bandit, Reaver took aim and tossed the dagger with such precise aim, it hit the Bandit Leader in the back of the neck. He fell hard and didn't move. Reaver slowly walked over to the Bandit Leader and reclaimed his hat and gun.

Picking Reavie off the bandit she attacked, Miss Sarah slowly walked to Barry and smiled. Both blushing softly, Barry took Miss Sarah's free hand and held it tight. "The offer still stands, Sarah…" he murmured softly. Miss Sarah leaned her head on Barry's chest and sighed happily.

It was at that time that Reavie decided to cough up the ring she had swallowed earlier that evening. Barry knelt down and after wiping it off with his sleeve, presented the beautiful diamond ring to Miss Sarah. After shifting Reavie about, Miss Sarah presented her ring finger and Barry slowly put the ring on it.

Reavie wiggled herself free and ran to Reaver, who picked her up joyously. "Well, don't leave us in suspense you two!" Reaver shouted jovially, him and the other servants staring anxiously.

Barry held Miss Sarah closely, his forehead touching hers. Barry and Miss Sarah kissed passionately as the rain finally started to fall. The group cheered as the thunder roared and the lightning lit up the sky. When Reaver decided he didn't want to get wet, the group started to walk home. A little ways away from the campsite, they found the bandit's wagon still intact with the horse still attached. Gordon helped everyone into the wagon and sat in the coach's seat. He snapped the reigns and soon they were off.

It took a few hours, but Reaver and his servants finally returned to Lakeview Manor. Barry and Miss Sarah lingered a bit outside, after Reaver jokingly warned them not to stay out too late. The two stood in the front of the manor, watching the storm clouds dissipate and reveal the crescent moon. Miss Sarah leaned her head on Barry's shoulder and held unto his arm tightly.

"I suppose I'll have to get used to not calling you 'Mr. Hatch' from now on, Mr.-…I mean, Barry." Miss Sarah giggled, tightening her grip on Barry's arm. Barry sighed happily and took Miss Sarah's free hand in his. He wished it had gone better, but all that matter to Barry was the conclusion of the evening. The diamond ring glistened softly in the moonlight. He had spent almost his entire savings on the perfect ring just for her, and with Miss Sarah on his arm, Barry knew it was money well spent.

"I'll write my mother tomorrow and let her know the good news. I know she'll be thrilled." Barry murmured. Barry kissed Miss Sarah's forehead and led the way back inside. He knew they would separate and go to their own respective rooms when they got inside, but Barry couldn't be happier at the moment. In a few short weeks, he and his beloved Sarah would be sharing a bed and a life together.

But Barry didn't seem satisfied, even when Miss Sarah kissed him good night when they arrived back inside. He wanted Miss Sarah to feel special and decided she would get the proposal she deserved.

_A week or so later_

"Oh no, where is it?" Miss Sarah panicked, tearing her room apart. Her ring was missing and she tried to stay calm. She remembered having it when she took a bath the night before and she had only taken it off to make breakfast that morning. She was hoping to see it again when she came back from making breakfast.

Miss Sarah nearly tore open her pillows when Rosie finally came in to stop her. Miss Sarah's door was wide open. "What are you doing, Miss Sarah?" Rosie asked.

"My ring is gone!" Miss Sarah panicked. "That beautiful ring Barry got me is gone! I took it off this morning before I went down to make breakfast, but when I came back up it was gone! Oh, Rosie, he's going to be so mad at me! Help me look for it! I remember putting it on my nightstand, so maybe it rolled under the bed."

As Miss Sarah attempted to lift up her bed, Rosie stopped her and motioned for her to follow. Miss Sarah stood up and followed Rosie out of the servant's hallway. The memory of Barry's proposal was still fresh in Miss Sarah's mind, and though she said yes, she was slightly disappointed that it wasn't more romantic. The bandits had been dealt with and Reavie didn't attempt to eat the ring again, but Miss Sarah knew that when it came to things around the manor, she had to take what she could get.

She sighed softly and looked at Rosie before they descended the stairs to the foyer. "Rosie, can I tell you something?" Miss Sarah asked. Rosie nodded as they stopped at the top step. Miss Sarah rubbed her arms and let out a soft hum. "I do love Mr. Hatch-…I mean, Barry, and I can't wait to be his wife. But is it selfish of me to wish the proposal was a little more…well, romantic?" she asked. "He was suspended over a chasm and looking at death in the eyes. I was hoping for a more poetic proposal, with flowers, and sunshine, and birds singing like in one of those romance books Mr. Reaver hides from us."

Rosie cocked an eyebrow and continued down the stairs. Miss Sarah giggled and stopped when they reached the bottom step. "Okay, so maybe the birds singing might be pushing it, but…"

"It's not selfish at all." Rosie finally said. "We both know the circumstances were unfavorable, but it is what it is. It doesn't matter how the proposal came about, all that matters is that Mr. Hatch meant every word that he said and he chose you to be his wife. Miss Sarah, you'll make a good wife to him. I'd say I've foreseen it, but you don't need to be a Fortune Teller to see how much you two care for each other."

Miss Sarah smiled and hugged Rosie tight. Rosie, not sure what to do, returned the hug and smiled. "Rosie, I've discussed this with Willa and Beryl and they seem to be supportive, if not somewhat jealous, but would you do me the honor of being my Maid of Honor?" Miss Sarah asked.

The two women stopped at the door. "Why me, Miss Sarah?" Rosie asked.

"When we first met at the circus, you were the only one who befriended me at first. You showed me the ropes around the circus, you helped me perfect my magic tricks, and you even introduced me to the others. You always seemed to know when trouble was around and you always came to our rescue when we needed you. Rosie, you were the first true friend I ever made that didn't want my family's favor or money. You truly wanted to be my friend and for that I am eternally grateful." Miss Sarah looked hopefully at Rosie.

Rosie smiled the biggest smile anyone had ever seen her smile. "Miss Sarah, it would be my honor. But we need to take care of something first…" Rosie opened the front doors wide, revealing the sunny spring day and the noise makers sounding off. Streamers had been set up around the front of the manor and the servants stood behind Barry and Reaver.

Miss Sarah looked around and giggled softly. With a shove from Reaver's foot, Barry stepped forward and took Miss Sarah's hand. He bent down on one knee and took Miss Sarah's ring from his coat pocket. It had been shined and buffed to perfection (if one ignored Reavie's teeth marks on the bottom).

"My beautiful Sarah, I promised I'd give you a perfect proposal and though it's not as elaborate as the one that was ruined, I hope you like it just the same." Barry looked up at Miss Sarah's smiling face as she looked around. Happy tears flowed down Miss Sarah's cheeks. Barry, who had fixed himself up in his best uniform, looked up at Miss Sarah with a big smile. "Sarah, will you marry me?"

Miss Sarah grasped softly. "Yes! Yes, Barry Hatch, I will marry you!"

Barry slipped the ring on Miss Sarah's ring finger and yelped loudly when he fell back from her embrace. The servants clapped loudly and ran to congratulate the couple formally. Reaver, holding Reavie, stood in his same spot. A million things were going through his mind but one thing he couldn't shake was the feeling that things were indeed going to change. Reaver, not one to share the spotlight, decided to make the best of this and find some way it will benefit him.

"Well, Reavie, it seems we have a wedding to plan." He mused to his cat. Reavie mewed softly. "Now, don't start getting sentimental my naughty kitty. I'm still in charge around here and I say we throw caution, and the status quo, to the wind!" Reaver started to walk toward his servants, a little unsure of what the future will hold. He was sure of one thing, though.

"This will be a Reaver party the likes Albion has never seen!"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**So, it's come to this, has it? It looks like we've got ourselves a wedding to plan!**

**I should explain why this chapter (and a few of my other stories) is late. I've been going through some personal issues lately, along with some technical difficulties involving my car. I had to replace the entire ignition and trust me it wasn't fun. I've been emotionally and physical drained, which is why my updates have taken another back burner. But not to worry, I'm still going strong and I hope to finish off this story before Christmas.**

**You know, this story has a lot of significance to me. It was the first story I posted on and it's always had a special place in my heart. I do hope that this fic will have a special place in the hearts of all my fans, even after it ends.**

**So, what are we waiting for? We have a wedding to plan! And knowing Reaver, he will somehow make this all about him. Expect to see some old characters come back for the biggest Reaver party Albion has ever seen! The next few chapters include an adventure including an overeager mother-in-law-to-be and a dress, bickering bridesmaids, another love confession, a bachelor party gone horribly (and hilariously) wrong, and a little snippet chapter starring everyone's favorite pampered kitty, Reavie.**

**And now, I bid you all a good night! Review and be merry, all of you wonderful people! Review and let me know how I did and if you like, give me some ideas for this wacky wedding!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	31. Mother Hatch and the Tragedy in Lace

_Reaver's Servants_

Mother Hatch and the Tragedy in Lace

The mornings in the mountain town of Brightwall always seemed the sunniest. The sun rose over the mountains and the sleepy little mountain village awoke to start the day. If the town crier didn't wake townsfolk up, the roosters from the chicken farm on the far side of town did. The shopkeepers were opening their doors, the drunks were staggering home, and the guards were switching shifts. The sounds of children running along to school rang through the air.

The tiny mountain village had expanded greatly in the few years since the Bowerstone Rebellion overthrew King Logan. Though the size of the town still paled in comparison to Bowerstone, the number of businesses and homes was still significantly greater. The residents of the mountain village were a prosperous folk.

One such resident, Mrs. Bernadette Hatch, was already up and starting her day. Mrs. Hatch had moved to Brightwall many years ago, inheriting the house when her elderly mother died some years ago. Before moving to Brightwall, Mrs. Hatch had worked as a seamstress in Bowerstone for years after her husband died from illness. Not a day went by that Mrs. Hatch didn't miss her late husband or her son, Barry, who lived in Millfields just outside of Bowerstone.

Mrs. Hatch's home was a modest one. It had a large living area downstairs and an upstairs with two bedrooms. She often wondered who designed the older houses in Brightwall, seeing as their designs didn't seem to make sense. She also wondered why anyone would put the stairs to the second floor on the outside of their home and why a big family only had two beds in the entire house. Mrs. Hatch lucked out and got a pretty normal looking house.

Her coffee was still warm, despite the cold air coming in from the window. She had forgotten that fall was coming and there was no need to open the window in the mornings anymore. Mrs. Hatch closed the window and opened the curtains to get the sunshine going in the house. Mrs. Hatch still did seamstress work now and then, particularly if the clothing store on the other side of the street needed help, but Mrs. Hatch didn't really have much else going on in her life. She had her garden and her old cat, and occasionally she'd go down to Ye Quill and Quandary Pub to hear the latest town gossip with her knitting group. She never questioned why they met at the pub, but a few instances have occurred where things in her knitting group got drunkenly violent. After the last incident, they were considering meeting somewhere else.

The sounds of children running off to school past her window filled Mrs. Hatch's heart with a warm yet sad feeling. Her late husband, Mr. Bertram Hatch, died when their son Barry was just a little boy. Before he became ill to the point of barely being able to move without groaning in pain, the late Mr. Hatch was an outgoing, hardworking, and rugged man. He worked as a blacksmith and sometimes moonlighted as a machine repairman for the factories in Bowerstone Industrial. He married Bernadette when his blacksmith apprenticeship finished and almost immediately afterward, their son Barry was born.

Mrs. Hatch wanted a house filled to the brim with children, and her husband was eager to give her that. When he died when Barry was about five, Mrs. Hatch knew she could never love any other man the way she had loved her husband. She was heartbroken by her loss, but she knew she had to be strong for her son. The first few years were tough, but Mrs. Hatch was tougher. She would often get sad looking at her son as he grew older because he resembled her late husband so much.

After Barry left home to start his own life, Mrs. Hatch got startling news that her elderly mother had passed away unexpectedly. Mrs. Hatch didn't think it was too unexpected, seeing as her mother was only three years younger than dirt itself. Being the oldest of all her siblings, she inherited her childhood home and decided to start her life anew in Brightwall.

Mrs. Hatch believed Brightwall was the perfect place to raise a family. It had everything: clean mountain air, lots of space to roam around, friendly people, and the town proper was very well protected by the bridge and stone wall. Mrs. Hatch was just about to go out and get her morning paper (provided the paperboy didn't toss it in the bushes again) when she heard the post man come up her walkway. She opened the door just as he was about to place the morning mail in her mailbox.

"Mornin', Mrs. Hatch." The post man shouted, handing Mrs. Hatch her mail. "You have a lot of mail this morning. A few catalogues and it looks like you got something from all the way in Millfields."

"Oh, that must be from my Barry. Thank you, Horus." Mrs. Hatch sang as the post man walked away. After fishing the morning paper out of the rose bushes in front of her house, Mrs. Hatch took her mail inside and tossed it on the table next to her coffee. Barry wrote her sparingly, so she decided to see what he had to say. She opened the letter and sipped her coffee. Her eyes glided along the writ and widened as she got to the middle. She nearly spit out her coffee and had to read it over and over.

"_Dear Mother,_

_How are you? I know I don't write you as often as I should, but I have some good news for you! A few weeks ago, I went into Bowerstone and decided it was time to take charge of my own life once again. I wanted Sarah to be a part of the new life I was planning. A few days ago, depending on how soon you get this letter, I asked Sarah to marry me. And she said yes! The wedding will be around the beginning of autumn. Fitting, isn't it? The season of change will mark the beginning of the biggest change of my life!_

_Reaver has unanimously named himself the wedding planner and decided he was going to help plan the wedding. I see only disaster, but Sarah seems optimistic. Rosie is going to be the Maid of Honor and Willa and Beryl are going to be bridesmaids, of course. I haven't chosen my Best Man, but I'm not in much of a hurry to do that. Sarah is having trouble finding a dress. The ones Reaver suggested are too expensive and she might just end up making her own. I think she looks beautiful in anything._

_There is a lot to plan and only a few weeks to plan it. We want to be married before the end of fall and things are looking good. I close this letter knowing that the moment you stop reading it, you'll probably already be boarding a train to Bowerstone. We hope to hear from you soon, Mother._

_Love, _

_Your son, Barry Hatch"_

The entire town could hear her cheering from inside her home. After a little while the town was treated to Mrs. Hatch dashing to the small post office (which was also the town clerk's office), knocking over three children, a town guard, a woman carrying a basket of vegetables, and jumping over a barrel that fell off a cart. She ran inside like a woman possessed and slammed her letter town on the clerk's counter. "I want this sent with the fastest service you have! I will pay any price but it must get to Millfields _AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!_" Mrs. Hatch roared, scaring the poor girl at the window.

After paying for nearly next day delivery, Mrs. Hatch ran back to her home. She had to pack. "Rosie was right! I will be needed for this!" she shouted, running back into her home. She ran upstairs and starting packing her biggest suitcase. "If I leave tomorrow morning, I can be in Bowerstone by late tomorrow evening. My Barry-bear is getting married!"

Mrs. Hatch had been preparing for this day and when she finished packing her suitcase, she ran to the big oak chest on the far end of her bedroom. Inside, she had the perfect gift for Miss Sarah.

_A few days later, in Millfields_

"It's perfect!" Miss Sarah shouted, stepping back from her creation. Miss Sarah had locked herself in one of the guest rooms for a few days (except when making meals, sleeping, and bathing) and she finally finished her secret project. Reaver allowed her to turn this relatively empty room into the wedding planning room and she was making good use of it.

The "War Room", as Reaver had started calling this room, was a few doors down from Reaver's room. It was located near a door that went to the upper level of the grand ball room that Reaver rarely used (and warned the servants about ever going into without him). Before Miss Sarah started using it, the room consisted of a small bed and a dresser. Now, thanks to Miss Sarah and the other servants, it had a full length mirror, a desk with a ledger on it, and a big table for discussing wedding ideas. The bed was still relatively unused except to lay garments and pieces of fabric on.

Miss Sarah, who had forgone sleep to finish her project, slowly stood up when she heard a knock at the door. She had enlisted Beryl to cook Reaver's breakfast the past few mornings and though Beryl knew her way around a cookbook and was pretty handy with a skillet, her cooking talents didn't even come close to Miss Sarah's. Miss Sarah, using the bed post to help herself off the floor, stood slowly. She placed her needle and thread on the bed and placed the silk dressing screen in from of her finished project. She wobbled her way toward the door and opened it.

Beryl stood there, covered in food. "Mr. Reaver says you had better get back into the kitchen and make his breakfast right tomorrow. He says this 'joke' has gone on long enough." Beryl took off her glasses and wiped them on her apron. "I apparently can't make _Crepes Suzette_ like you can. Nor do I prepare his plate right." Beryl put her glasses back on.

"But you're the one who taught me that recipe." Miss Sarah argued, going to find a towel in a nearby closet. "If anyone can make it right, it'd be you."

Beryl appreciatively took the towel and wiped herself off. "Well, he ate most of it. Mr. Hatch told me that as long as Mr. Reaver eats at least half of it, he actually enjoyed it and there's no need to remake it again. Mr. Reaver called me up and yelled at me that I couldn't make it right. He threw the rest at me and told me this joke has gone on long enough. I got out of the room before he had a chance to throw his coffee at me. When he said joke, I didn't know if he was referring to his breakfast or the wedding planning that's interrupted our routine."

Miss Sarah sighed and helped Beryl straighten herself up. "I sometimes think Barry and I are the only ones happy that we're getting married." Miss Sarah pouted, walking over to the dressing screen.

Feeling bad, Beryl walked over to Miss Sarah and placed her hand on her shoulder. "We're all happy for you two, Miss Sarah. Most of us are still in shock, actually. We know a lot goes into planning an event this big. I mean, compared to the other parties Mr. Reaver has made us prepare, this should be a cake walk. But this isn't about Mr. Reaver, for once. It's about you and Mr. Hatch. You have to admit, it's kind of thrown us all off balance a bit."

Miss Sarah walked over to the dressing screen and sighed. "I know this wedding is throwing the routine all out of sorts. Tell Mr. Reaver I'll be back making his breakfast tomorrow morning. I'm done with the project that's taken a lot of my time anyway." Miss Sarah took away the dressing screen and smiled wide.

Stepping back, Miss Sarah stood in awe of her project. Beryl smiled as Miss Sarah walked around her project. What started as a bundle of fabrics and a pile of designs turned into a splendid wedding dress. It was a floor length dress with a soft floral design in the bust. The shoulders were exposed and the train was short. It had long sleeves, perfect for a fall wedding. She still had to make the veil and decide if she was going to wear gloves or not, but the dress itself was finished.

"Miss Sarah, it's beautiful!" Beryl exclaimed softly. Beryl held her hand out to touch the dress but forced herself back. "Has Mr. Hatch seen it yet?"

Shaking her head, Miss Sarah walked over to the dress and dusted it softly. "Oh, no, no, no! It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding!" Miss Sarah sounded panicked and walked over to the dressing screen again. "It took me a while to get the hemming straight and for some reason I can't loosen the bust line to where it doesn't sag. I guess Barry will be happy for the low bust line but I'm trying to keep myself modest!"

Beryl giggled softly. Miss Sarah cocked an eyebrow and placed the dressing screen back in place. "It's just so weird hearing you call Mr. Hatch by his first name." Beryl giggled.

"It took some getting used to for me as well." Miss Sarah sighed. "But I can't keep calling him 'Mr. Hatch' after we're married." Miss Sarah yawned softly and leaned against the bed. "Beryl, I didn't think I could be so happy but…I can't wipe this smile off my face."

Before Beryl could say anything, another soft knock came from the door. Beryl had forgotten that she had left it open. Rosie and Willa poked their heads through the doorway. "Can we come in?" Willa chirped from under Rosie. Miss Sarah smiled and waved the two in. "We heard Mr. Reaver tossing dishes around. Are you going to start making breakfast again soon, Miss Sarah?" Willa asked. Miss Sarah sighed and nodded before going back to the dressing screen.

"So, what is it you've been working on in here for the past week and a half?" Rosie asked. Miss Sarah once again revealed her dress. Rosie and Willa stood in awe. "Has Mr. Hatch seen it yet? I hope not because it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride's dress before the wedding."

"Barry hasn't seen it. He doesn't even know I'm working on it. He and Mr. Reaver seem convinced that I should go to a dress maker in town, but they are so expensive." Miss Sarah put the dressing screen back in place and sat down in a nearby chair.

"Well, we know you're handy with a sewing needle, Miss Sarah." Willa leaned against the wall closest to the door. "We just didn't know you were _this_ handy."

Miss Sarah smiled. "I've been reading up on how to sew wedding dresses. I'm quite proud of it. Now, your bridesmaid dresses are the ones being made by the dressmaker in Bowerstone. They are being delivered this evening and I need you girls to try them on so I know where I need to make alterations."

Meanwhile, in Reaver's room, Barry helped Reaver get dressed. After sliding on Reaver's jacket, Barry walked over to the side table and picked up the schedule book. The two men hadn't spoken to each other since Beryl left Reaver's room screaming. Barry knew the wedding was disrupting the routine of the manor, and Reaver didn't like was change to the routine. Barry figured since Reaver "volunteered" to be the wedding planner, Reaver was a little less bothered by it. That sentiment was mostly true.

"Miss Sarah is expecting the bridesmaid dresses for the girls to arrive tonight. Which begs the question, Hatch: Who are your groomsmen going to be?" Reaver finally asked as he placed his hat on his head. Reaver watched Barry in his peripheral vision.

Barry put down the schedule book and straightened himself up. "Well, Gordon will be in the party, of course. Since Sarah only has three in her party, including the maid-of-honor, I figure three for me as well. I have yet to pick out my best man."

"Is that so?" Reaver asked, suddenly interested.

Barry nodded and looked around nervously. "Well, it's not exactly a big contest. I don't think Gordon would be interested, considering I asked him and he said he wasn't interested. He said the responsibilities of being best man would get in the way of his other duties around the wedding. What with having to prepare the flowers and what not. It is a big job. So, it's down to you and Elliot."

Reaver didn't say anything. "So, the contest is between me and the Queen's pretty-boy?" Reaver asked softly, a hint of deviousness to his voice. "Doesn't sound like much of a contest, does it? Well, the position should go to someone you trust completely and respect no matter what. Someone who can uphold the sacred duties of a best man and make sure nothing crazy happens at the wedding. Someone who knows you better than anyone, even better than you yourself, and has always been a part of your life."

Barry nodded. "You're right, Master Reaver. The choice should be so obvious. I will send Elliot a letter and ask him if he's interested."

Reaver chuckled softly as Barry started to leave the room. Reaver knew this contest was already won, no matter what Barry said. Reaver always had an ace up his sleeve because Reaver never played clean. Reaver had no qualms about going to the lowest common denominator when it came to getting what he wanted. "So, how do you think Miss Sarah will take the news?" he asked.

"Of Elliot being my best man? I'm sure she'll be fine with it." Barry answered, as he reached for the door knob.

"…of you being a balverine…" Reaver announced, before Barry could open the door. Barry stood there with his hand on the door knob, shaking nervously. He swallowed hard and couldn't seem to get his fingers all the way around the knob. Barry didn't move. His hand stayed on the doorknob, starting to grip it tightly. Barry was literally frozen in his spot. Reaver could only laugh. Barry didn't see Reaver's eyes or the evil glow they had that matched his demented Cheshire cat grin. If there was one thing Reaver knew how to do best, it was turn things in his favor.

"I'm just curious what would happen if Miss Sarah just happened to find out her soon-to-be hubby was a horrifying beast. I bet the announcement of such news will be quite unexpected. I can see it all now: screaming in terror, calling you a monster, and calling off the entire wedding. And what about your dear mother? Poor old Mother Hatch must have just gotten your letter and knowing her, she's probably on the train to Bowerstone as we speak. How disappointed will she be, not only losing a daughter-in-law before the event even happens, but also learning her baby boy is a dreadful balverine? And I'm betting Mr. Finn would just love to come out of retirement and make an easy target of the monstrosity that sullied his good name." Reaver chortled and put his gloves on. "It will be oodles of fun watching this farce of a wedding go up in flames; everyone's hard work gone to complete and utter waste all because you couldn't be honest with your future wife about your ailment. I do say, quite a lot of damage one little mention could do…"

Barry took his hand away from the doorknob and turned around, his head low. Barry figured he should have seen this coming, but all the excitement of the upcoming wedding was the only thing on his mind. Now, the vision of Miss Sarah running away from him while screaming that he was a monster was all Barry could think about. He had worked too hard to finally win her over, and Barry wasn't about to lose Miss Sarah before their marriage even had a chance to blossom. "Master Reaver, will you please do me the honor of being my best man?" Barry asked, still shaking.

"Oh, now Hatch, there's no need to beg. All you had to do was ask. I'd be honored!" Reaver laughed and left his bedroom.

Barry just stood there, a cold sweat going down his forehead. "You play dirty." Barry mumbled, following his boss to the foyer. Reaver just laughed and descended the stairs.

_Meanwhile, on a train_

The sound of a train whistle sounded through the thick forest. The Trans-Kingdom railways made cargo shipping and transportation across land much easier and safer than by carriage or caravan. Passenger trains were still something of a novelty but each time Mrs. Hatch used the train, more people seemed to be on board. Mrs. Hatch smiled at the passing scenery. The train was making great time and she hoped to be in Bowerstone by late evening. She held the letter firmly in her hand, still unable to believe what she had read. Mrs. Hatch sighed softly, remembering when Barry was only a little boy making faces at the prospect of one day liking girls or the idea of marriage. Now Barry had successfully courted a fine woman and in a few short weeks he would be married.

Mrs. Hatch sat back in her seat, remembering her own courtship with the late Mr. Bertram Hatch. She remembered coming to Bowerstone as a young woman out to see the world. Bernadette was born and raised in the mountain town of Brightwall and longed to see the world. She was a tall young woman with hair the color of fall leaves and had sun kissed freckles on her cheeks. With her family's blessing, Bernadette left the sleepy hamlet and made her way around the kingdom. Bowerstone was her last stop. The budding kingdom had so much to offer a young woman like Bernadette, but it wasn't until she decided to settle in Bowerstone that she realized how much her life was about to change.

She had taken up a job as a barmaid at the Cow and Corset Inn when she used up the last of the gold her family gave her just to get to Bowerstone. The tavern owner let Bernadette stay in one of the rooms above the bar while she was working at the tavern. The hours were long and the pay was meager, but Bernadette loved it. Every ounce of gold she made (that didn't go towards food and rent), she saved. Bernadette wasn't sure what was keeping her in Bowerstone. She decided to save up her gold some more and get passage home when someone caught her eye.

Truth be told, she caught his eye as well. The blacksmith came into the tavern after his stall closed and brought in his apprentice. Bertram Hatch was a tall, lean man with a mop of hair the color of a campfire on his head. He had a goofy smile that seemed to bring a smile to his master's face. Bertram looked up at Bernadette once when his master had gotten up to fetch their drinks. He didn't blink for an entire minute. Bernadette couldn't stop staring at him, either. It wasn't until her boss yelled at her to get back to work that their unwitting staring contest ended. It would be at least a month until Bertram worked up enough nerve to come into the tavern by himself and introduce himself to the barmaid. When he finally did, he had no words; just soft gasps of air and a nervous laugh.

Their courtship was a pretty standard one by outward opinion. After work, Bertram would make his way to the tavern, sit in his usual chair, and wait for Bernadette to be done with her shift. Then, they'd go for a walk around the market and talk about anything. It took him a while to get up the nerve to hold her hand. Their first kiss by the bridge was a memory that still sent happy shivers down Mrs. Hatch's spine.

Before too long, Bernadette forgot why she was saving her gold and began spending her extra wages on pretty dresses and make-up to impress Bertram. Bertram started cleaning himself up after work, just to make himself look presentable to the lovely barmaid. Bertram promised Bernadette that once his apprenticeship was up, he'd marry her. Bernadette only laughed at the notion. But Bertram Hatch was a man of his word and before too long the Bowerstone Clock Tower bells would be ringing to announce the marriage of Bertram and Bernadette on a clear spring morning.

For the first few months of their marriage, the two lived in Bernadette's tavern room. It was small, but it was all the space they needed. Once Bertram took steady employment in Bowerstone Industrial and Bernadette took up seamstress work in the market dress shop, they were able to buy a decent home near the Industrial entrance. It was in this modest home that their son, Barry, was born. Bertram promised Bernadette that they'd fill their house to the brim with happy healthy children.

Of all the promises he kept, this was one he couldn't. Bertram took ill one winter when Barry was five. The doctors couldn't help him and Bernadette watched helplessly as her husband died a slow and painful death. As they lowered her husband into the cold wet ground of the Bowerstone Cemetery, Mrs. Hatch knew from that day forth there would never be another man in her life. No one could ever compete with the late Mr. Hatch and Mrs. Hatch decided she would stay faithful to her husband's memory. She raised her son as best she could all alone. It broke her heart that her long hours working as a seamstress kept her from her son for so long.

She hoped Barry turned out at least mostly good. Mrs. Hatch knew a young man would get into trouble now and then. His infrequent letters after he left home gave her so much heartache, but Mrs. Hatch knew her son had to make it on his own. She read each letter with a pained heart; reading of his staggering lows, his problems keeping a steady job in one city, his brief career as a lightweight boxer, and his eventual employment with Reaver. Each letter sounded more depressing than the last. There was a long period of time that Barry didn't write her. She was relieved to hear from him again almost a year and a half later. She was convinced the Darkness that tried to envelope Albion had gotten him but she was happy to see a letter from him sitting in her mailbox.

In this letter, he talked about being "indisposed" for a while and apologizing profusely for not writing her. But the letter wasn't depressing at all. Barry told her that he was in search of new servants for his boss. Mrs. Hatch was not happy to hear he was still working for Reaver. She had come to visit Barry only a few times before his year or so of silence. Reaver seemed to enjoy having Mrs. Hatch visit, considering Reaver hated most people in Albion. Mrs. Hatch thought he was a nice enough man, but kept reminding herself to keep arm's length from him at all times.

In one letter in particular, Barry mentioned the new servants. Former circus performers in need of jobs came knocking at the massive doors of Lakeview Manor. He barely mentioned the others, but he went into great detail about the new cook. A woman named Sarah whose smile lit up a room. He described her so well that Mrs. Hatch didn't need a picture. He spoke fondly of their morning conversations and having tea with her in the afternoon while Reaver was in town. Mrs. Hatch knew, when Barry wrote down that when he'd met her he had no words, that this woman would one day be her daughter-in-law.

Mrs. Hatch left her daydream when the conductor announced the train would be arriving in Bowerstone in a few hours. Mrs. Hatch clutched the letter and placed her gloved hand on the big suitcase next to her. She paid the extra fee to bring it on the train with her instead of putting it in the luggage car with the rest of her luggage. Her gift to Miss Sarah was in this suitcase and she wanted to make sure it was safe.

_At the manor_

It was Barry that answered the door when a delivery boy knocked late in the afternoon. Reaver had been at the factory all day, so Barry signed for the packages and even tipped the delivery boy. Three individual white boxes tied with different colored ribbons; one was purple, one was red, and one was yellow. Barry assumed they were the bridesmaid dresses. Barry placed them down on a couch near the front door and walked over to the kitchen.

Miss Sarah was inside preparing dinner. Reaver asked for steak that night, but Miss Sarah found it odd that he asked for three instead of two (one for him, one for Barry). Miss Sarah assumed he would be working up quite an appetite at the factory, though she always believed he did nothing but sit at a desk and scowl all day (she'd be mostly right). Miss Sarah was at her cutter board, smashing the steaks with a meat tenderizing hammer. Her grunts made Barry laugh. Barry cleared his throat softly and smiled when his bride-to-be turned around.

"Barry!" Miss Sarah shouted happily. She immediately ran and gave him a big hug. Barry decided he could get used to this. "I'm sorry I wasn't in the kitchen this morning. I will be back making breakfast tomorrow. Any idea why Mr. Reaver wants me to make three steaks?" she asked, going back to the meat she was tenderizing.

Barry shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest, love." He murmured. "I came in to tell you that three frilly packages just arrived."

Miss Sarah's smile grew wider. "The bridesmaid dresses!" she shouted, running to the sink to wash her hands. She shook her hands dry as she ran to the foyer and to the boxes sitting innocently on the couch. "I knew they'd come in soon, but I didn't think it'd be this soon. As soon as I'm done preparing dinner, I'll have the girls try them on."

Watching Miss Sarah gush over the tiniest details of the upcoming wedding gave Barry a warm feeling in his chest. He often felt she was too good for him. The other servants and his boss often told him she was. But of all the people in Albion, Miss Sarah chose Barry to spend her life with. She said yes to his proposal and in a few short weeks they'd be husband and wife. It gave Barry a lot to think about.

Upstairs, the girls were inside the "War Room" picking up stray fabrics and papers. Though he never used this room, Reaver still hated messes in his house. A stray piece of paper flew toward the dressing screen and attached itself to one of the hinges. Reavie, who was napping on the bed nearby on top of a folded fashion catalogue, opened her eyes and watched Willa chase the stray paper. Reavie locked her eyes on the paper and decided she wanted to play with it.

"Gotcha!" Willa shouted happily, grabbing the paper.

"Be careful near the dressing screen, Willa." Beryl warned while tossing her bundle of stray fabrics in a nearby trash can. Willa waved away Beryl's warning and took the paper just as Reavie ran for it. Reavie jumped on the stack Willa was carrying and knocked her over. Rosie and Beryl heard Willa yelp and fall back onto the dressing screen. Reavie, Willa, the dressing screen, and the mannequin the dress was on fell over as the papers rained down upon the girls.

Rosie and Beryl shrieked loudly as Reavie pranced away happily with her paper treasure secured in her mouth. Beryl ran to help up Willa while Rosie ran to the dress. She picked up the screen and then the dress, dusting it off softly. The door slowly opened just as Rosie put the screen back in place. Miss Sarah stood at the door with the boxes in her arms.

"Girls, your dresses arrived!" she shouted as she placed the boxes on the bed. Miss Sarah then noticed all the paper on the floor. "Girls, Mr. Reaver will be home any minute! I have to finish dinner, or I'd help you pick up all this paper! If he sees this, he'll throw a fit!" Miss Sarah picked up a few pieces of paper and tossed them. "After I finish dinner, we're going to try on those dresses and make alterations as we see fit. Please, I know this last week has been pretty tough on everyone and it's not going to get easier; but it means a lot to me that you all help me out."

Rosie, Willa, and Beryl nodded and sighed softly. Miss Sarah smiled. "I'm lucky to have such good friends. I'll be back up as soon as I'm done making dinner to help clean up and to do the alterations. Please be careful around my dress."

Miss Sarah left and the girls let out a huge sigh of relief. Rosie went to inspect the dress and dust it off a little more. It was at that moment she noticed a wrinkle. The wrinkle wasn't what made Rosie gasp. On the hip seam was a small loose thread. It was barely noticeable, but by the amount of time Miss Sarah had spent on this dress, she'd notice. She'd point fingers. She'd be mad. "Oh, a thread has come loose from the hip seam of the dress." Rosie murmured.

Willa looked up from her pile of papers. "Oh, Miss Sarah must have missed it when she finished! We should fix it for her."

Rosie shook her head. "I don't want to risk damaging the dress. We'll just tell her when she comes back later."

"Oh, she won't even notice!" Beryl whined, making her way to the dress. It was a small thread and Beryl's glasses magnified it. But the girls saw it and it stuck out, taunting them. "I bet it's just a piece that accidently got sewed in. It probably goes to nothing. Here…" Beryl plucked the tiny thread and smiled wide. "There, no fuss, no-"

At that moment, the stitching of the right side of the hip seam came loose, causing a hole to appear. Beryl could hear the thread unravel and slowly turned to look at the dress. All of the maids screamed in horror. Rosie ran to the dress and held up the piece that had fallen. "I said not to touch it!" she growled. Rosie took a few deep breathes and stood up. "Willa, you can sew, right?"

Willa nodded. Willa was a girl of few talents other than her strength, but she could sew fairly well. While she couldn't make anything as impressive as a wedding dress, she had repaired some of Reaver's socks when Rosie was too busy doing other chores to do it herself. "I'm not as good as you or Miss Sarah, but yes I can sew." Willa murmured.

"I'll need your help to repair this. Hold this in place while I go find Miss Sarah's sewing kit." Rosie commanded. Willa nodded and ran to the dress, taking the hanging piece from Rosie. "Please be careful. I will be back as soon as I can."

Willa held the piece in place, trying not to move. Beryl, still holding on to her tiny piece of thread, still couldn't believe one little thread could unravel an entire side. "Maybe she rigged it to do that as a warning." Beryl pondered, twisting the little thread in her fingers. "Maybe she knew we'd come in here."

"Of course she knew we were going to be in here. She's the one that asked us to clean up the papers in the first place. Still, we just have to wait for Rosie to get back." Willa looked around the room and heard the soft patter of little kitten feet. Reavie had chased her piece of paper back into the room and it now sat trapped under the bed. Reavie mewed mournfully and pawed at the just out of reach paper. Beryl dangled the little thread in front of Willa.

Reavie's eyes lit up and slowly walked over to Beryl's foot. She batted at Beryl's shoe and made her intentions known. Reavie wanted that piece of thread and Reavie was used to having her way. Reavie hopped a few times and batted at the thread. "No, Reavie!" Beryl scolded. "We have to wait for Rosie to come back!"

The thread taunted Reavie and she growled softly. Reavie kept trying for the thread, but Beryl kept it just out of reach. Reavie didn't like this game anymore. She started growling. Then she started hissing. Then, after backing up a bit, tiny little Reavie let out the loudest roar she could muster and leaped at Beryl. Beryl screamed as Reavie leaped for her. Beryl jumped out of the way and Willa found herself in Reavie's path. Everything went in slow motion as Willa leaped out of the way and Reavie collided with the dress.

Willa and Beryl shrieked loudly. They shrieked even louder when Willa realized she didn't let go of the piece of dress she was holding up. Rosie returned at that moment. The dress was on the floor with a big hole in the hip, and Reavie's head was poking out of it. Rosie dropped the sewing kit and her eyes grew wide. "I was only gone for two minutes!" she shouted, running to help Willa up. "Why is it whenever you two are left alone, only bad things happen? And why do they usually involve the cat?"

The maids then started arguing with each other. Soon, the stomping of familiar boots interrupted their squabbling. "Girls, Miss Sarah is just about done with dinner and my table has yet to be…" Reaver, walking in holding a glass of wine, walked into the room and just stared at the chaos around. His eyes immediately darted to the dress his cat was emerging from. Reavie, feeling her job was done, slowly slinked her way out of the room with her tail between her legs.

Reaver didn't look mad. He looked amazed that three maids could cause such damage. He set his drink down on a stool as he bent down to pick up the dress. "If this were my outfit, you'd all be strung up by your toes in the basement for the damages done. And after all the blood rushed to your obviously empty heads, you'd be working night and day to the bone to pay for this. Luckily for you three, this isn't my dress. Personally, you'd have to take the waist in a bit and I would never have chosen this fabric."

Holding the dress up, Reaver grimaced a bit and glared at the girls. "Rosie, I never expected this kind of behavior from you. As Miss Sarah's maid of honor, I figured you'd be taking your duties more seriously. Now, I don't care what you do, but as Miss Sarah's wedding planner, I REFUSE to have her walk down the aisle in a shabby dress! I don't care if she is marrying Hatch of all people. Find a way to fix this before she comes back up here!"

Reaver didn't realize he left his wine behind. He certainly didn't realize he hit the stool as he stood up and left the room. The stool wobbled a bit and finally the wine glass fell over. The dark red wine flowed from the chalice like a waterfall and onto the white dress. The soft trickle of the wine caught their attention. Rosie picked up the dress and examined the stain.

Willa grabbed the skirt. "We have to clean it!" she shouted, tugging it towards her.

Beryl grabbed the back, where the neck drooped. "We have to sew it back up! Then we can clean it!" she shouted, tugging the dress towards her.

Rosie held onto one of the sleeves. "We need to take it to Miss Sarah and admit what happened!"

"Clean it!"

"Repair it!"

"Give it back to Miss Sarah!"

The girls argued and tugged the dress in each direction. "You think you know everything because she named you her maid of honor!" Willa accused, pointing to Rosie with her free hand. "You wouldn't even have that title if you didn't scare the daylights out of everyone!"

Rosie blinked. "Maybe I got the title because no maid of honor dress in all of Albion could fit you properly!" Rosie shouted, tugging the dress in her direction. "Besides, if Beryl knew how to keep her hands to herself, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"It's not my fault Miss Sarah can't sew a hip seam!" Beryl blurted out, tugging the dress in her direction.

"We have to clean it!" shouted Willa.

"We have to repair it!" shouted Beryl.

"We need to give it back to Miss Sarah!" shouted Rosie.

As the girls shouted and tugged at the dress, Reaver came back, looking for his wine. "What is going on in here?" he shouted, attempting to snatch the dress from the girls. "If you three can't play nice, you're not going to play together at all!" he shouted, grabbing the front neckline and trying to yank the dress away from his squabbling maids. Soon, their boss joined into the argument.

Barry, who had been looking for Gordon all afternoon, heard the arguing when he came back into the manor. Miss Sarah left the kitchen she heard Barry come in. The argument could be heard all the way downstairs and Miss Sarah knew exactly where the sounds were coming from. She panicked and ran up the stairs with Barry hot on her heels. The two made their way to the "War Room" and Barry opened the door wide. Miss Sarah's eyes widened at the spectacle in front of them.

"Clean it!"

"Repair it!"

"Give…it…BACK!"

_**RRRRIIIIIPPPP!**_

The fighting stopped at that moment. The entire manor was silent. Each of the four people arguing had a piece of the dress in their hands. Eventually, they all looked in the direction of the door and saw Miss Sarah standing there, quivering. She walked slowly to the pile of fabric on the floor that was once her dress. She kneeled down and picked up the pile slowly and looked it over. Miss Sarah couldn't speak. She just held her destroyed creation in her arms and started sobbing.

"My dress…" Miss Sarah whimpered, hugging her destroyed dress. Barry walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulder. "How…how did this happen?" she whimpered as Barry made comforting shushing noises to her. "I gave them one job and they somehow destroy my dress…" Miss Sarah fell to her knees and started sobbing heavily.

Reaver walked over to Miss Sarah and took his handkerchief from his coat pocket. "Now, now, Miss Sarah; all is not lost." Reaver pretended to be regretful, but everyone knew he wasn't. "You're a talented woman in the ways of domestic affairs; you can just make a new dress. Or, you could go to the dress shop and get a new one."

This statement only made Miss Sarah cry more. Reaver, not seeing the heartless nature of his statement, simply handed Miss Sarah his handkerchief and left the room. The three maids, with an urging glower from their boss, slowly made their way to Miss Sarah. "We're sorry, Miss Sarah." Willa chirped. "We know how hard you worked on this dress."

Rosie stepped forward with a handful of lace still clenched in her fist. "We should have come to you immediately when we noticed something was wrong." Rosie noticed she still had some lace in her hands and shook it over the trash can.

"We'll put our money together and buy you a brand new dress!" Beryl shouted without consulting the others. The others agreed anyway. "Please don't cry Miss Sarah. We love you and we want you to be happy."

Miss Sarah sniffled a bit. Barry helped her up, wiping her tears away with his gloved hand. "It's okay, lovey. We have plenty of time to get you a brand new dress! This coming Wednesday, when Master Reaver gives us our annual day off, we'll go into Bowerstone and we'll pick out a new dress for you."

Sniffling softly, Miss Sarah leaned against Barry. "You all just don't understand. I've had this vision of what my wedding dress would look like since I was a little girl and now it's nothing but a pile of lace in my arms. It was supposed to be special. I'm can't stay mad at you three, but…" Miss Sarah held the remains of her dress close. At that moment, as if the forces of the universe were telling them to do so, everyone in the room looked over at the door.

"Well, it seems I got here just in time!" shouted Mrs. Hatch, her arms folded. Gordon stood beside her, carrying an extra-large suitcase. Mrs. Hatch marched into the room, directing Gordon where he could put down her suitcase. "Your boss greeted me at the door and told me everything."

Barry blinked a bit. "Mother? I didn't know you were coming for a visit. Why didn't you write me?"

"I wrote your boss and told him I'd be coming in to help with the wedding. I didn't want to spoil the surprise I have." Mrs. Hatch walked over to Miss Sarah, who was still crying a bit. "Oh, my dear future daughter-in-law seems to be crying. Now, why is that, Sarah dear?" Mrs. Hatch asked, sitting on the bed with her purse in her lap. Miss Sarah showed Mrs. Hatch the remains of her dress. "Ahh, I see. Well, it seems I did indeed arrive just in time. Chin up, my dear. Mother Hatch is here to save the day." Mrs. Hatch walked over to her suitcase. "Anyone who isn't a woman, out now!"

Gordon and Barry left the room and shut the door behind them. Barry was a little upset that his mother was here without him knowing. He always preferred to know when his mother was coming to visit so he'd have plenty of time to get his usual hiding spots ready. Barry should have known that the news of his engagement would have his mother flocking toward Lakeview Manor.

In the room, Mrs. Hatch dragged her suitcase to the bed and plopped it down. "When I was a young woman, I met and married the man of my dreams. Bertram was a rough and tumble man who had scores of women after him. But as luck would have it, he only had eyes for me. When it was time for us to marry, he worked day and night to afford our wedding. The wedding itself was simple, but there was one aspect that was the most elaborate and beautiful. We were walking by a dress shop one day and I pointed out the wedding dress they had on display in the window. Bertram saved every last gold piece he made just so he could afford to buy me the dress of my dreams."

Mrs. Hatch opened her suitcase and smiled down at its contents. She pointed to Beryl to get the dress dummy and set it by the bed, making hurrying motions. "I always looked forward to the day my Barry-bear would marry and I couldn't be happier than he's marrying you, Sarah. Honestly, I was dreading him bringing home some surly barmaid that he'd settled for. But I'm so happy he met you. I'm also glad he earned your heart fair and square, Sarah. Now, when I got married, my mother-in-law quite reluctantly gave me a pearl necklace when I had no jewelry to wear. She said the women in the Hatch family have a lot of traditions and one of them is giving a gift of something that's needed to any woman entering the family. She gave me the pearls she wore when she married her husband. And now, Sarah, I continue this tradition with something you need the most."

Mrs. Hatch pulled a beautiful old wedding dress from her suitcase and draped it on the dress dummy. Miss Sarah dropped the remains of her own dress and walked over to the dummy. It looked almost exactly like the dress she had been sewing. The bust line was where Miss Sarah had been trying to sew hers and the color had dulled, but nothing a good washing couldn't fix. Miss Sarah noted it would have to be taken out around the hips and the bow on the lower back needed to be replaced, but all minor details.

Miss Sarah, her tears now happy ones, hugged Mrs. Hatch tightly. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Hatch." She chirped.

With a big smile, Mrs. Hatch patted Miss Sarah on the back. "No, no, my dear. It's 'Mother' from now on. In a few short weeks, _you_ are going to be Mrs. Hatch." With a big smile and a soft chuckle, Mrs. Hatch hugged Miss Sarah tightly. "Now, after dinner, we have a lot of work to do. Reaver said something about the bridesmaids dresses coming tonight?"

All was forgiven, though the girls knew they had a lot of apologizing to do to Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah, luckily, was not one to hold anger for long. After dinner, the women of Lakeview Manor went back to the "War Room" and started discussing plans. Mrs. Hatch was a welcome help, altering the dresses as she saw fit.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Miss Sarah sat at the dining room table after dinner had been cleaned up. Reaver and the others had already gone to bed (as far as she knew) so the night was hers. She sighed softly and looked down at her cold cup of tea. She barely drank any. Miss Sarah couldn't stay mad at her friends, but the night's events were still in her head. "Sarah?" murmured a voice behind her. Barry, still in his uniform, walked into the dining room towards Miss Sarah. Every night after the servants and Reaver went to bed, Barry checked the house to make sure it was locked one more time.<p>

Miss Sarah smiled and pushed her tea away. "Barry! Did I wake you?" she asked softly, standing up.

"No, just doing my final rounds before bed. Have to make sure the house is locked up tight. Why are you still up, lovey?" Barry asked, sitting next to her.

"Just replaying tonight's events in my head. Those three knuckleheads are the best friends a girl can have. They mean well, but they destroy more than they fix." Miss Sarah laughed. Barry put his hand on Miss Sarah's and smiled wide. It was nice to be able to do things like that without acting like nervous teenagers. "It was sweet of your mother to give me her wedding dress. I will treasure it always. And maybe one day I can pass it on to any potential daughter-in-laws."

Barry blushed as Miss Sarah got up and kissed his cheek. Barry took Miss Sarah's hand again. "You know, we still need to figure a few things out, Sarah." Barry whispered, directing Miss Sarah toward the hallway with his bedroom. "For example, how well we share a bed together." Barry got a sneaky look while Miss Sarah pondered this. "I sprawl out sometimes, but I think with you sleeping next to me, I might have to force myself to curve that nasty habit. I wouldn't want to wake you up every night just to move my arm out of the way."

While Barry didn't think this would actually work, he was surprised when Miss Sarah nodded in agreement. "You make a good point, Barry. Besides, we'll be using your bed, seeing as mine is too small. I think I'll sleep easier knowing you're next to me."

Barry directed Miss Sarah toward his bedroom with a sly smile. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't learned anything from Reaver in the years he'd been working for him. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?" Barry put his hand on Miss Sarah's back and let her enter his room first.

"Barry?" Miss Sarah chirped.

"Yes, lovey?" Barry answered.

Miss Sarah kissed Barry softly on the lips, causing them both to blush. "Be gentle…" she whispered. Barry's grin grew wider and he hurried in after Miss Sarah, trying to keep his laughter down as to not alert any other occupants of the house. He didn't notice the door to the guest room housing his mother was slightly opened.

Mrs. Hatch watched Barry's door shut softly. Mrs. Hatch grinned to herself and slowly shut her own door. She didn't want to make too much noise and ruin the evening. She left the guest room quietly and went to the dining room to pick up Miss Sarah's tea cup. Mrs. Hatch had the same silly grin Barry had. "If all goes well, I'll be a grandmother before this wedding even happens!" she murmured with a soft giggle.

With a skip in her step, Mrs. Hatch hummed the wedding march as she walked downstairs to the kitchen. Rosie was right: She would be needed, but in more ways than she imagined.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my loves! OOooh, things got a little steamy at the end, didn't they?<strong>

**Oh my, is it hot in here? *fans self***

**Well, only a few more chapters to go before the big day! And I got some fun stuff planned for you guys.  
><strong>

**I've got a lot of work ahead of me, and not just from this story, from a few other stories of mine as well. I had a lot going on in these past few weeks. For example, I suspended my OkCupid account. I figured I still had too much to work on before I bring another person into the crazy equation that is my life, you know? I think a significant other is not what I need at the moment. Don't get me wrong; I do still get a little lonely, but with all the stuff going on, it might not be worth the investment.**

**Enough about that! So, how did I do? Leave me a review and let me know! I have to finish getting ready for work, so don't forget to drop me a line over at deviantArt (user name LunaPeachieWasHere) or better yet, drop me a review! Keep this story going strong with reviews! Tasty, magical, reviews! Lol**

**Review and be merry, my friends!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead**


	32. In-Laws and Other Inconveniences

_Reaver's Servants_

In-Laws and Other Inconveniences

The evening was setting in. The cold air from the mountains would be rolling in soon, and fall was already upon Millfields. The lights coming from Lakeview Manor could be seen from all over the region. Festive paper lamps blew gently in the wind as the sun set over Bower Lake. The leaves were turning a nice gold color and most were now nestled in neat piles by the stone wall separating the garden from the front of the house. Their final fate would be a bonfire scheduled for another night.

Though the wedding was still a two weeks away, Lakeview Manor was in full wedding mode. Decorators were running in and out of the manor while the servants were scrubbing the house from top to bottom. After the rehearsal dinner, a stag party the likes no one has or will ever again see was still being planned in the mind of the Best Man.

The groom, on the other hand, was drinking tea by the cup in the dining room. It was a strange mixture of tea that no one in the manor had ever heard of. It couldn't be bought in the market in town, so it had to be special ordered from some pretty odd looking individuals. The tea itself smelled like mint and to the more discerning noses, a hint of wolf's bane. Whatever was in it, Barry enjoyed drinking it and Reaver allowed for extra-long tea breaks during certain times of each month.

He couldn't quite believe it but in no time at all, he and Miss Sarah would be married. Barry was more ecstatic than his current mood portrayed. While he drank his tea with a sip every few seconds, everything else was going on around him. The servants hurried around cleaning, the decorators stopped every so often and asked where he wanted something, and in this small interval of time, Barry was completely calm. This day was turning into a really good day. His mother, who had decided to perch herself in one of the guest rooms until the wedding, was going to be in town all day running wedding related errands. As long as she wasn't in the manor telling embarrassing stories about his childhood, Barry didn't care where she was.

When he finished his tea and the decorators had left for the day, Barry got up and made his way to the kitchen downstairs. Before he even reached the kitchen, Miss Sarah ran up to him with a big smile. "Barry!" she shouted, giving him a big hug. Barry smiled and thought this day couldn't get any better. "We've all been so busy today I didn't get a chance to see you earlier. I have wonderful news!" she directed him to the kitchen, where she was in the middle of preparing dinner. On the counter next to the cutting board sat an opened letter. "This morning, Willa brought in the mail and she gave me this." Miss Sarah held up the piece of paper.

"What is it?" asked Barry, placing a fist on his hip.

"It's a letter from my brother, Geoffrey!" Miss Sarah shouted happily, hugging Barry again. "He's coming to Bowerstone soon on business and he's going to stay for the wedding! I already asked Mr. Reaver if he could visit tonight when he gets in and Mr. Reaver said yes. Then he scolded me about being more prompt when asking to have visitors over."

Barry nodded and started to take the letter from Miss Sarah until she pulled it away. "I suspect he'll be coming to the manor as soon as he's settled into the inn. I've spent all day making his favorite dinner. It's a stew recipe my grandmother always made for us when we were children and I'm making it just the way he likes it. Mr. Reaver will be home soon. He promised to keep a lookout for my brother while he was in town. Whether he kept that promise, I highly doubt, but I still have hope. I gave him a picture of my brother so he'll know who to look for. I didn't like the way Mr. Reaver was looking at the picture, though."

"What kind of look was it?" Barry asked.

"The kind of look a hungry wolf gets when it's spotted a big fat rabbit." Miss Sarah responded, turning her back to finish making dinner. "I still have to prepare for tomorrow night's dinner. It's our rehearsal dinner, so be sure to pick out a nice outfit!" Miss Sarah shouted as Barry left the kitchen.

With a soft chuckle, Barry left the kitchen and started making his way toward the stairs. Today was going pretty well. He couldn't think of anything that could ruin it. He knew the wedding was soon, but Barry still couldn't believe he was marrying Miss Sarah. While to most, Miss Sarah seemed pretty ordinary with her dull brown hair, her pretty standard out of uniform wardrobe and unassuming figure. But Barry always saw her differently. He saw a woman with chestnut hair that shined in the sun and a figure that made any dress look like a ball gown.

Barry sighed happily and watched his wife-to-be scurry about the kitchen. Nothing else mattered at this point. The chaos around him as decorators and servants ran around didn't seem to bother Barry at all. It was about that time the front door opened slowly. Barry checked the grandfather clock by the stairs and nodded. Reaver would be home by now and the servants started gathering into the foyer to greet their boss as they usually did.

Miss Sarah came out last and took Barry's arm. "I hope Mr. Reaver found my brother." She whispered softly.

"Your brother is coming to visit?" asked Willa, brushing off her apron.

"I don't think we've ever actually met your brother." Beryl commented right after Willa. "…or the rest of your family, for that matter."

Rosie sighed and folded her arms. "We finally get to meet this brother you're so fond of." She murmured.

Before Miss Sarah could answer, the door opened slowly and a gloved hand motioned for someone to come over. Gordon, who had been inside helping set the table, decided to see what the hand wanted. After Gordon left the house, the door shut. The servants looked at each other and then back at the door. They heard a few murmurs, some sighs, and then footsteps. Miss Sarah held Barry's arm tighter, not sure what to think. Rosie, standing somewhat off to the side, tilted her head and nodded as if she could hear the conversation outside.

Before too long, Gordon came back inside with a scared look on his face. He cleared his throat and walked to Miss Sarah. "Miss Sarah, before Mr. Hatch opens the door, I just want you to know that we all love and care about you and none of us knew about this." Gordon warned with his face as white as a fresh linen sheet.

Miss Sarah nodded, not sure what to think. Barry just shrugged and made his way to the front door. Gordon swallowed hard and nodded to Barry. Barry turned around before he saw Gordon whisper a soft prayer in the direction of the sky. Gordon wasn't normally a praying man. Barry slowly opened the door and Reaver walked in first. "Well, look who I found roaming around Millfields! I say, Miss Sarah, if you're going to have sudden guests please keep better track of them!" Their boss shouted as Barry opened the door wide.

After Reaver walked in, a nicely dressed man walked in after him. He looked to be about Reaver's height, if not just a hair shorter, with Miss Sarah's dull brown hair covered in a hat. If not for the soft stubble on his cheeks and chin and broader shoulders, this man would be the spitting image of Miss Sarah. This was obviously a relative. "Geoffrey! Big brother!" Miss Sarah shouted happily, running to hug the man.

Geoffrey smiled and hugged his sister back. "I heard a rumor that you were getting married." He laughed, releasing his sister from their embrace. "When I heard you left that circus, I was afraid you ran into trouble but I'm glad to see you're still in good hands." Geoffrey pointed to the other servants, having recognized them from numerous photographs Miss Sarah had sent him.

The others didn't know what to make of this man. Rosie, who seemed indifferent, didn't seem to understand why this man would cause Gordon to say those things. Willa and Beryl shoved their way forward and greeted Miss Sarah's brother with more grace and admiration than they had for their boss. "You must be Geoffrey, Miss Sarah talks about you a lot. I'm Willa." Willa, her cheeks blushing with the deepest red anyone had ever seen, shook Geoffrey's hand hard.

Beryl gently shoved Willa out of the way and took Geoffrey's hand. "I'm Beryl, and it's a pleasure to meet you." She giggled. Willa glared at Beryl and Beryl returned the glare through her glasses. Miss Sarah giggled and Geoffrey only chuckled.

"So, Geoffrey, how's your _wife_?" Miss Sarah asked, helping her brother in. Geoffrey chuckled, trying not to notice Willa and Beryl deflate from their momentary crush on him.

"She's back in Brightwall. She'll be here for the wedding, but she didn't want to come along now." Geoffrey cleared his throat and then looked at Gordon. "So, what's this I hear about my baby sister getting married in a few weeks? Where is this 'Mr. Hatch' that you've been going on about in her letters for over a year and a half?" he laughed.

Barry walked up to Geoffrey after a pause and held out his hand. "That would be me. I'm Barry Hatch, and I'm going be your brother-in-law. Sarah sings praises of you." Barry and Geoffrey shook hands and gave each other a big smile. Sarah was happy that the two were already getting along. The two men laughed and talked for a minute or so until someone clearing their throat broke up the celebration. Reaver, who had been standing off near the door for a minute or so, looked over at Gordon.

Gordon looked at his boss and only shrugged with a frightened look in his eyes. Reaver looked like he was just waiting to see the fireworks. Reaver stepped out of the way and motioned for the servants to line back up in their usual guest greeting line. "Now, Sarah, please don't be mad, but I brought some guests with me."

Miss Sarah blinked. "Guests? Like business partners? I guess we can find some extra chairs for them. We'll have to rearrange the seating charts but…"

Geoffrey grabbed his sister's hands and shook his head. "Forgive me, little sister…" he whispered. He nodded for Gordon to open the door. Gordon sighed, made one more final prayer to the sky, and opened the big doors wide. Reaver held himself straight up as two others walked in. Miss Sarah's big smile soon faded into a look of utter disbelief.

These two were obviously nobles, given their way of dress. Their clothes looked like they were made for warmer weather, considering that even in the fall Millfields was still warm. The man had Miss Sarah's brown hair that was greying and the lady had Miss Sarah's eyes though they looked overly made up with eyeliner and sleep deprived. The man wore a tall hat and the lady wore her already grey hair in a ridiculous up-do that looked like some type of bun.

Miss Sarah quivered in her spot. "M-mother? Father?" Miss Sarah chirped as she shook.

The couple stepped forward and looked around the manor. Their expressions didn't change. "I expected it to be bigger from what I had gathered." Miss Sarah's mother murmured. "Oh, well I supposed beggars can't be choosers." Miss Sarah's mother plopped her hands in front of her and walked up to her daughter. The servants noted that she didn't seem too thrilled to see her own daughter. "Hello, Sarah. It's good to finally hear from you after all these years."

Miss Sarah made a soft growling noise and clenched her fists. Barry put his hands on Miss Sarah's forearms and moved her closer to him. The others looked at each other and then at the couple. For as long as they had known her, Miss Sarah rarely talked about her parents. When she did, her voice took a foreboding tone. It was obvious that Miss Sarah didn't get along well with her parents. Though she often spoke of her brother with high regard, the subject of her parents was to be avoided. The servants knew that.

"It was finally nice to hear some good news about you. Your brother has kept us informed over the years of you. Imagine our shock when we heard you had joined a circus!" Miss Sarah's mother shouted as she and her husband walked toward the stairs. They turned around completely and then glared at their daughter. "Well, don't just stand there, child! Introduce us to your…friends!"

With a sigh, Miss Sarah walked over and held her hand up to her parents. "Everyone, this is my mother and father. I guess they'll be attending the wedding." She murmured.

Miss Sarah's parents looked at the servants with disdain. Miss Sarah's mother stuck her nose up at the smiling, waving servants. "I guess beggars can't be choosers when it comes to servants, hmm?" she mumbled, examining each servant.

Miss Sarah's mother stopped at Willa first. "I hear employing children is cheaper than employing adults." She muttered, moving towards Beryl as Willa fumed. Miss Sarah took one look at Beryl's glasses and made a disapproving hum. "My, this one's as blind as a post and just as scrawny! How do you get any work done when you can barely see?" Beryl shook softly in her spot, her glasses hiding her tears. When she came to Rosie, Miss Sarah's mother had no words. "I guess being tall and scary looking has its perks, right my dear?" she asked.

The girls quivered angrily in their spots. Gordon, who had already been insulted on the way to the manor earlier, stood with the girls.

"Imagine our shock when we heard you were getting married! Why, we never actually expected anyone to actually consider you, what with those meaty hips." Her mother continued. Miss Sarah gritted her teeth and walked back over to the others. Reaver put his gloved hand over his mouth so he couldn't laugh. "Well, who is this mystery man? Who took one look at you and decided that even wearing that atrocious uniform, that you'd be a perfect wife?"

While Rosie grabbed the back of Miss Sarah's apron to keep her from attacking her own mother, Barry straightened himself up and walked up to them with his hand held out. "Sir, Madam, my name is Barry Hatch and I'm your daughter's fiancé. It's a pleasure to finally meet you both." That last line was obviously a lie, but Barry still wanted to make a good impression in front of these people. These two were going to be his in-laws and as unpleasant as they were, Barry wanted them to at least see him in a good light.

Miss Sarah's mother looked Barry up and down and put her hands on her hips. Barry's stomach turned a bit, but he ignored it, along with the feeling of impending doom. Miss Sarah's mother shook her head with a soft "tsking" noise coming from her tongue and lips behind her teeth. "Oh, Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…" she murmured under her breath. With Rosie holding onto the back of her apron and now with Willa and Beryl on each arm, Sarah's right eye twitched a bit. "I know your prospects are pretty low, what with you being a glorified maid and all, but he's so…stringy."

Miss Sarah's father, who didn't talk much, took a pipe out of his coat pocket and stuck it in his mouth. "Don't be so hard on the girl, dear. Sarah's a grown woman and can marry whoever she wants. Even if he looks like a stable boy, this is Sarah's decision. So, what do you do around here, Bernie?"

Barry retracted his hand and blinked softly. He cleared his throat and bowed softly. "It's Barry, Sir. I'm Master Reaver's attendant, as well as his personal assistant. I keep his schedule, I keep the house in order when he's not around, and I also work as his personal accountant, keeping his affairs and accounts in order."

Miss Sarah's father looked far from impressed. He only made soft humming noises. Geoffrey, on the other hand, nodded with an interested hum while scratching his chin. "Ahh, a jack of all trades, that's pretty impressive." He hummed softly. His father didn't seem to share his sentiments. Miss Sarah's father just sighed and looked at his wife. Geoffrey smiled at his sister, who looked like she wanted to cry. "Sister, I have yet to see the ring. You wrote three whole paragraphs in your last letter about the ring and you still haven't shown me what it looks like."

With a proud smile, Miss Sarah presented her hand, ring finger first, to her brother but not her parents. Her parents walked over and looked down at the ring. It was a lovely diamond, not too big or too small, that complimented Miss Sarah's hand well. Geoffrey admired the ring, smiling his approval. Miss Sarah's parents looked at each other and hummed what Miss Sarah thought was esteem and admiration. Miss Sarah felt she had finally trumped them. "Well, I didn't think your husband-to-be made enough to afford something so nice. It's acceptable, I suppose." Her mother mumbled, looking at her husband. Miss Sarah yanked her hand back and held it tightly.

Reaver finally cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, it is so nice to meet all of you. How about we adjourn to the study and talk, hmm? Miss Sarah, why not show off those lovely cooking skills for your dear parents and whip us up some tea and those delicious honey cookies you made the other night. Those were certainly divine!" said Reaver, pointing to the study. Reaver watched as Sarah's parents and brother slowly walked toward the study. "Oh, the rehearsal dinner will be a hoot!" Reaver grinned.

Barry sighed and looked at the other servants. Miss Sarah fumed and walked back to the kitchen. Before Barry could follow her to make her feel better, the kitchen doors slammed shut. Barry crossed his arms and shook his head. "I always thought she was exaggerating when she talked about her parents. Well, I've been wrong before and I was wrong again now." Barry felt his head throb softly and he rubbed it with his entire hand, mussing up his hair. "There is no way this night could get worse."

Just as he said that, the front doors swung open once again. Barry didn't even turn around when the sound of familiar boot heels clomped through the foyer. "I've returned, my dears! Barry-bear! Help me with my bags!" shouted Mrs. Hatch as the other servants turned to greet her. Barry didn't face his mother. He stayed in his spot trying to keep his eye from twitching. The others took the hint and helped Mrs. Hatch with her purchases.

"Mrs. Hatch, we have other guests here tonight." Willa said, picking up a green shopping bag. "Miss Sarah's family has come to town for the wedding!"

Predicting only disaster, Barry turned suddenly and ran to his mother as the servants took Mrs. Hatch's shopping bags upstairs. "Sarah's parents are here? Oh, well…" Mrs. Hatch placed her hand over her mouth, trying not to smudge her lipstick.

"Mother, Sarah is a bit sensitive about having her parents here. They…aren't the most polite people in the world, so please…" Barry didn't finish his sentence. Mrs. Hatch took off her gloves and handed them to her son, along with her coat and purse.

Mrs. Hatch walked up to the mirror hanging over the piano and fixed her hair a bit. "Now, Barry, I'm sure they're decent enough folk. I mean, if they can conceive a lovely person like Sarah, they can't be all bad, now can they? Besides, I think it's high time I meet the other side of the family." Mrs. Hatch straightened herself up and started for the study before her son could protest. Barry started to follow, but a sudden headache stopped him dead in his tracks. He ran upstairs just as Miss Sarah left the kitchen with tea and cookies on a silver tray.

Amidst the one-sided laughing and the crackle of the fire, Mrs. Hatch could feel the tension. Miss Sarah silently walked toward the foyer with a somber face. Mrs. Hatch stopped her for a moment. Miss Sarah hadn't even noticed Mrs. Hatch had returned. "Sarah dear, one does not enter a battle unless they are ready." She warned as she walked into the study.

"Mother Hatch, you've returned from your shopping trip!" Reaver shouted, standing up to give Mrs. Hatch a hug. "I hope everything went well, I can only assume wedding errands can be quite horrid which is why I'm making the servants do all the heavy lifting." Reaver laughed. "Mother Hatch, these are Miss Sarah's parents, along with her brother. They came for the rehearsal dinner." Reaver helped Mrs. Hatch to the chair he had Gordon bring in from another room. "Call it a hunch, but something tells me they won't be staying for the rehearsal dinner or the wedding, for the matter." He whispered.

Mrs. Hatch nodded and showed herself to the new guests. "So, you're Sarah's parents. I've heard…much about you." Mrs. Hatch started. "I'm Mrs. Bernadette Hatch, Barry's mother. Barry is lucky to have met a lovely girl like Sarah. Skilled cook, sweet to the core, and a good figure, too. I expect good things in the grandchildren department from that one." She laughed. Only she seemed to find it funny.

Miss Sarah's mother cleared her throat as Miss Sarah walked in with the refreshments. She softly put them on the table near the window and sighed looking outside. Geoffrey came up behind his sister and put his hand on her shoulder. "You owe me big time for this!" Miss Sarah whispered through her teeth. Geoffrey watched as his sister prepared the tea cups on the tray. "How did they find out I was getting married and more importantly, when did they start caring?"

Geoffrey shrugged. "They were visiting me when I got your letter saying you were getting hitched to that Mr. Hatch guy you talked about in all your letters. I guess Mother must have taken it off my table after I read it when she saw your signature. She was shocked that you didn't tell her."

"I'm shocked she can feel emotions." Miss Sarah growled. Reaver, who had pretty good hearing despite the noise, decided that eavesdropping on this conversation was much better than the boring back and forth going on between Miss Sarah's parents and Mrs. Hatch. "I thought running away and never writing them was a clue that I didn't want them here!"

Miss Sarah huffed and brought the prepared tray to the group. "Supper will be ready soon. I made beef stew. It's Geoffrey's favorite, in case you decided to ca-…" Geoffrey nudged his sister. Miss Sarah cleared her throat and placed the tray down on the side table next to Reaver's chair. "…in case you forgot. Excuse me…" Miss Sarah stomped off.

In the kitchen, the servants were getting everything ready. Rosie gathered up the plates and gave them to Willa and Beryl to set. Gordon had left the house to gather fresh cut flowers for the dining room table, and no one knew where Barry went off to. Miss Sarah stirred the stew and cursed into it. The others knew to avoid Miss Sarah, who seemed to be cursing more than a drunken sailor. When the dishes were set, it was Rosie that announced dinner.

Miss Sarah didn't leave the kitchen when the others came back for the finished stew. She fumed at the servant's table in the corner of the kitchen, her hands gripped around a cold tea cup. She heard soft talking coming from the upstairs, mostly from Reaver and Mrs. Hatch. She was hoping Barry would show up, but she sat alone in the kitchen. Her ears perked up when she heard Barry's voice come from upstairs. She heard him apologize for being late and she heard his chair scoot out. Miss Sarah softly wished him luck.

"I apologize for my lateness, Master. I wanted to find a cleaner set of clothes." said Barry, straightening his uniform coat. Reaver only nodded, waving for Beryl to pour him some more wine. Willa made a plate for Barry and set it in front of him before finally leaving the dining room with the others. They didn't completely leave. They stood at the doorway to Reaver's hallway, eavesdropping on the conversation. Their boss knew they were still there, but said nothing.

The dinner became oddly silent. Barry's headache was softer now, but he couldn't help but feel the disapproving eyes of his future in-laws staring him down. Miss Sarah's mother was the first to say something as she softly wiped her mouth with her napkin. "So, Benny…"

"It's Barry, Ma'am…" Barry murmured softly. Mrs. Hatch pursed her lips and sipped her wine, looking more offended than Barry felt.

"Right…" Miss Sarah's mother chuckled softly. "So, our Sarah seems quite fond of you. I must say, you aren't anything like I imagined you'd be. When Geoffrey mentioned she was marrying a man she worked with, I imagined another servant. I guess I feel slightly better knowing you're not just the gardener or a butler." That last statement made the other servants fume with anger from their eavesdropping spot. Barry cleared his throat and reached for his wine. "I suppose being a personal assistant is good, too."

Miss Sarah's father only nodded before sipping the stew from his spoon. "I suppose being a glorified secretary to Albion's most eccentric businessman is as good a job as any." He said, finally. "Our little Sarah has always been a bit of a black sheep. She liked to be difficult in matters of propriety. It's good to see she's a least domesticated."

Reaver, not above insulting people for any given reason (or none at all), couldn't believe his own ears. While Reaver was known to shout at the servants for their own small misgivings, he felt slightly alarmed that Miss Sarah's own parents had even less an opinion of her than he did. He cleared his throat and looked over at Barry, who was bending a stainless steel spoon with only his thumb. Not wanting Barry to bend his good silverware, Reaver decided to dispel the unpleasantness. "I can assure you both that Miss Sarah is the best cook I've ever had. Any recipe I throw at her, she picks it up within a minute! Why, that ravioli dish she makes every so often is the toast of all my dinner parties!"

"Oh, is she still making that?" Miss Sarah's mother sighed. "That old recipe has been in the family for years. I guess she's finally perfected it. It was always a little greasy when she made it. Well, she can cook, I suppose. If the whole 'personal assistant' thing doesn't work out for Barney, I guess she can always support them with her cook job."

Mrs. Hatch, who had been tearing her cloth napkin in her lap under the table, clenched her teeth. "It's Barry. My son's name is Barry. He's a damn good assistant. He's had a gift for accountancy ever since he was a boy, I'll tell you that much! Why, he helped me keep my finances straight after his father died and he's been keeping Reaver's schedule for years and he keeps this manor up and running! My Barry can keep a book like no other and he can do numbers with ease!"

Geoffrey, who had been silent this entire time, finally put down his glass of wine and glanced over at the entrance to the dining room. "Sarah! You've come to join us!" Geoffrey shouted happily. Miss Sarah still had that look on her face, like she had swallowed a sour grape. The servants watched from the doorway as Miss Sarah walked in with dessert. "Is that chocolate cake? You remembered that I adore chocolate cake!" Geoffrey saw a soft smile emerge from Miss Sarah's face.

"It seems she's taking a liking to it as well." Miss Sarah's mother whispered.

"What was that, Mother?" Miss Sarah growled, placing dessert down and brandishing a big knife. Reaver subconsciously scooted his chair back a bit. He was not a man to be frightened of things, but the look Miss Sarah had on her face while holding the knife intended for cutting the cake made him quite nervous. She gripped the knife tightly and tried to keep herself from doing anything she'd probably not regret.

"Oh, nothing of any importance, my dear." Her mother sighed. "I just think that with all the cake you'll be having at your wedding, you might want to skip this one slice." Her mother sipped her wine again and looked at her daughter. "Well, you're already here, start serving the cake to those of us _not_ watching our figure."

Miss Sarah held the knife high. Reaver jolted his head toward the doorway, where he knew the others were watching, and made panicked gestures. Rosie ran from the doorway and grabbed Miss Sarah's wrist before anything could happen. "Miss Sarah, I'll serve dessert. You've done enough today. We'll clean up the kitchen, too." Rosie slowly took the knife from Miss Sarah and motioned her toward the servant's hallway. "You go get some rest."

Reaver's patience was starting to grow thin with these unwanted guests. He was the master of the house and the right to insult his help was his and his alone! Reaver felt this outrage could not go unpunished but decided dinner time was not the time. He looked over at Barry, who seemed to have trouble keeping his own cool.

In her room, Miss Sarah grumbled angrily. She didn't want her parents here, but there they were, sitting in the dining room. Miss Sarah rubbed her forearms and sat on her bed. All her life, she had been the envy of all the children because she had such rich parents. Her childhood wasn't anything special, but she saw more of the servants than she did of her parents. When she did see her parents, it was mostly for small intervals of time and usually didn't have anything encouraging to say.

Miss Sarah reached into her nightstand drawer and pulled out a fancy box. It was a green velvet box and it contained a red collar with silver studs on it. She smiled happily, holding the collar in her hand. She hadn't seen its intended recipient in some time, but with the full moon expected soon, Miss Sarah was happy. "I bet you'd gobble them up for me, wouldn't you?" she whispered to the collar, as if the beast it was meant for was standing near. Miss Sarah decided that she'd have to grin and bear it. If she knew her boss, by now her parents were starting to get on his last nerve as well. She placed the collar in her apron pocket and started to leave her room. She had a feeling tonight's events would end in gun fire.

In the dining room, Barry was feeling an urge he was having trouble controlling. He gritted his teeth at his future in-laws, thought he tried to remain polite. His mother wasn't fairing any better. "You know, if she just kept doing those pageants, she probably wouldn't have such meaty hips." Miss Sarah's mother murmured, finishing her slice of cake. "I tried to make her into a proper lady, but all she wanted to do was play in the mud with her brother. I was slightly relieved when she started showing a knack for cooking. Unfortunately, it took a while for her talents to grow in that field as well."

Mrs. Hatch smiled and sipped her wine as Miss Sarah reentered the dining room. "I like Sarah's figure. In the old days, we called hips like hers 'child-bearing hips' and it's been proven that women with wider hips have an easier time giving birth and have healthier children. I'd rather have healthy grandchildren than stringy ones with no meat to them."

Reaver motioned for Miss Sarah to sit, despite propriety meaning she was to serve. Reaver leaned over and grinned at Miss Sarah. "You're taking this well." He whispered. Miss Sarah nodded and stayed in her spot next to Barry. Reaver was enjoying being the spectator of this rather entertaining spectacle. He placed his chin on his hand and leaned forward. This was much better than those sensationalist rag magazines he sometimes confiscated from his factory workers (and in a few instances, from the servants). For once, Reaver wasn't the cause of chaos. He was rather enjoying it.

Barry, on the other hand, felt something inside trying to claw its way out. He felt his right eye twitch and the air in the dining room turned thick. Everyone felt it; master, servants, and guests alike could feel the atmosphere in the dining room become tense. Miss Sarah looked over at Barry and placed her hand on his softly under the table. Barry didn't react. He looked like he was fighting something, but he couldn't say what it was. Miss Sarah smiled at him softly, watching him as he attempted to drink the tea that was on the table for him. The cup shook.

"You're shaking like a cold house cat, Bentley." Miss Sarah's mother stated. "You're not much when it comes to muscle, I see. You have the look of someone who should be tending a stable, but none of the muscle that accompanies such a job. How can we expect you to keep a home with our daughter and any potential grandchildren if you can't even keep yourself from coming down with a cold in the middle of dinner? It's not proper, coming to dinner shivering like you just came in from the cold. Our Sarah will not be living in a drafty home, I can tell you that right now! What kind of man can't provide for his wife?"

Barry gripped his jacket sleeves. "It's Barry, Ma'am and…I…I think I need some fresh air." He murmured, trying his hardest to excuse himself from the dinner table.

Before Reaver could say anything, Barry got up and left the dining room in a rush, covering his mouth. "…and not to mention, he's rude!" Miss Sarah's father mumbled after a long pause. He looked at his wife, who nodded, and then looked at his daughter. Miss Sarah was standing up to chase after Barry, but her father held his hand up, motioning her to sit down. "Sarah, dear; please understand that your mother and I only want what is best for you. You're our only daughter and we wanted only the best for you and your brother. Your brother has made a good name for himself as the city clerk of Brightwall, but you just seemed to wander around. You ran away before we could arrange another marriage for you and you joined a circus! And now, you work as a cook and about to marry a glorified butler!"

All eyes (master and servants alike), were on Miss Sarah's parents. "Sarah, what your father is saying is that we can't, in good conscience, approve of your marriage to Bartleby…"

The final nail in the coffin came from her father. "In fact, you're mother and I discussed this before we arrived and we want you to come back with us when we leave. You deserve better than the life of a cook and you certainly are above the life of an accountant's wife. In fact, we have several nice young men lined up for you when we get back home."

The entire dining room was silent. Miss Sarah looked at her boss, who knew exactly what she wanted to do. He nodded his approval and leaned back in his chair. He often liked to watch fireworks and this was about to be better than any flashy light display. For good measure, Reaver poured himself some more wine. Miss Sarah's right eye started twitching. Geoffrey scooted his chair back, preparing for the worst.

"You…don't approve?!" Miss Sarah shouted, slamming her hands onto the table. "In case you haven't noticed, which is pretty likely, I stopped caring what you thought long ago! I don't need anyone's approval to marry someone, especially not yours! All my life, you've tried to control every aspect of my existence! You've chosen my clothes, my hobbies, my friends, and you even tried to marry me off to several men who only wanted your money! And when I finally take my life back, you have the audacity to come out of nowhere and expect me to listen to you?! I hate to break it to the both of you, as it is apparently not obvious enough, but I'm happy here! I'm happy here working for Mr. Reaver and I'm happy with the others! They are the only true friends I've ever had and I wouldn't trade any of them for anything! And another thing: if you don't like who I marry, then you don't have to come to my wedding! I didn't want you there in the first place! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find him!"

Miss Sarah stomped off without being excused. "And his name is Barry!" she shouted, leaving the dining room. The front doors slamming were the last thing anyone heard. Reaver, who looked like he was fighting back the urge to laugh, stood up and applauded softly. Mrs. Hatch let out the loudest laugh anyone had heard. The servants, from their eavesdropping spot, laughed too.

Miss Sarah fumed on the steps of the manor and tried to calm down. She stomped toward the middle of the yard and folded her arms. "The nerve of them." She muttered, pouting like a punished child. She looked around and took the collar out of her apron pocket again. She thought about many things; including a certain Balverine ripping her mother and father limb from limb. But she had to find Barry before the night got too cold. "I need to find Barry and apologize, since I know they won't. I hope Mr. Reaver's patience runs out soon. I never thought I'd ever hear myself say that. The sooner my parents leave, the faster a pleasant visit from my brother can begin." She murmured, running toward the gate. Miss Sarah stopped when she heard soft, yet deep breathing coming from the hill nearby. She placed the collar back in her apron pocket and made her way up the hill.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she shouted, reaching the bridge to the clearing. "Are you hurt?" Miss Sarah ran into the clearing and saw a shadow hunched over a rock. She recognized the outline. "Barry? Is this where you ran off to?" she shouted, running toward him. She stopped when his deep breathing turned into a soft growl.

Barry grabbed his hair and turned to face Miss Sarah. "I didn't want you to find out this way." He shouted, his voice combining with a guttural growling. Barry stood up and looked up at the moon as it left its cloudy blanket, revealing its full beauty. "I never wanted you to find out at all! I'm sorry!" he shouted. Barry let out a guttural roar and howled as his teeth grew, his arms stretched, and his entire body became covered in red fur. Miss Sarah stepped back until she backed into a tree.

With a mighty roar that shook the manor's windows, Barry began what looked like a very painful transformation. His spine stretched, his fingers elongated with claw-like nails, and his face changing into a furry muzzle-less face, the man Miss Sarah knew was now a balverine. She screamed loudly and started to step out of the way. The balverine loomed over her and roared loudly. Miss Sarah, driven by instinct and instinct alone, started running toward Driftwood. The balverine gave chase.

Twigs snapping under her feet as she ran, the entire forest heard her screams. She heard the balverine's horrible growling and snarling as it ran after her. She didn't know why she was running, but instinct taught her that if an animal was running after you with claws and fangs out, one needed to run. Miss Sarah stayed on the path until she felt she lost the balverine. She looked around and knew she couldn't direct it toward Driftwood. Miss Sarah jumped into a bush and started running through the brush. She stopped at a big tree and watched the path. The balverine looked around and then darted in another direction.

Miss Sarah stayed behind the tree and put her hand over her heart. She honestly didn't expect that. "Alright, that was horrifying." She mumbled. "My fiancé is a balverine. Even odder, he's _MY_ balverine." She continued, looking behind the tree again. She reached into her apron pocket and took out the collar. "Well, now I know what Mr. Reaver meant when he said I had Barry by a leash." Miss Sarah sat down and held the collar close. "So, this explains why he asks for extra days off during the full moon. I'm so stupid!" she shouted at the sky. "It should have been so obvious."

Holding the collar close, Miss Sarah felt like she was about to cry. Everything was coming together in her mind and she didn't know what to do. She pictured Barry and his smile, asking her not to be afraid, but she didn't know she if she could do that. Miss Sarah turned her head when she heard howling again. The balverine sounded disappointed. Miss Sarah tried to think. "He means me no harm that I know of. If he were just the balverine from before, it'd be different. But he's Barry."

Miss Sarah stood up, the collar still in her hand. She walked from her hiding spot under the tree and made her way to a nearby clearing. She held the collar to her heart and sighed softly. Her ring caught the moonlight and glistened enough to make her squint her eyes. She heard soft rustling in the surrounding area. He had found her, she knew it. Miss Sarah stayed put. She was about to face her balverine and her fiancé at the same time.

The balverine stepped into the clearing, its snout-less face in the air, sniffing until he found Miss Sarah. He lumbered over toward her and growled at her, like it was scolding her. Miss Sarah let the balverine sniff her and waited for it to stop. He growled at her again before walking around her, studying her. He sniffed her again and then stopped in front of her to face her. Even sitting, this balverine was much bigger than Miss Sarah. His big yellow eyes glowed with intensity, making Miss Sarah shake a bit. The balverine growled at Miss Sarah, showing his massive fangs.

Miss Sarah stood straight and whacked the balverine on his non-existent snout. "No!" she shouted. Miss Sarah put her hands on her hips and watched the balverine sniff and shake himself out of his shock. He growled louder and opened his mouth, revealing many sharp teeth. "No! Bad!" Miss Sarah shouted again, hitting him again. The balverine whined and snorted. "Bad! No teeth! Naughty balverine! That is a very bad doggy!" she shouted, wagging her finger at the monster. "Naughty, naughty no bite!"

The monster stood tall and roared intensely at Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah just stood there, her fists balled up. The balverine looked at Miss Sarah curiously and then sat down at her feet. "Good, that's a very good boy. Now, are you going to be good?" Miss Sarah asked. The balverine looked like it wanted to growl, but it did nothing. "Good." Miss Sarah crossed her arms and looked around. She saw a big rock and walked over to it, sitting down softly.

Miss Sarah pointed to the ground in front of her and the balverine obediently lumbered over. Miss Sarah suddenly became placid at the monster in front of her. "So, this is what you've been up to whenever there is a full moon, huh?" she asked, rubbing her right forearm. The balverine laid his head in her lap and whined. Miss Sarah started to pet him. "I guess I should have realized it sooner. I feel like such a doofus for not seeing the signs. Rosie told me you had something to tell me, but only would when you were ready. I guess I figured it out for myself."

The balverine sniffed Miss Sarah's right hand and tugged on the collar softly with its massive teeth. "No! Don't do that! This was expensive!" she shouted, pulling the collar away. Miss Sarah looked at the collar again and then at the ring on her finger. "My husband-to-be is a balverine." She whispered. Miss Sarah smiled softly and thought about it for a moment. Barry, despite the secret he kept, was still a good man and she still saw him whenever she looked at this monster.

Ever since her first encounter with the Red Balverine, she felt that this beast meant her no harm. While he was a balverine, something in him kept him from harming Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah had many pets in her childhood and often wondered if they felt the feelings humans felt. Miss Sarah squinted and pushed some of the red fur away on the balverine's shoulder. It was a gunshot wound from their last encounter toward the middle of the summer. She remembered the terror she felt when the monster stood over her friends and how reckless she was for standing up to the beast without knowing its true intentions. It had healed nicely, but she noticed the monster winced when she touched it.

It was then Miss Sarah realized how close she came to almost losing Barry. This was more than a pet. This was more than a monster. This was Barry. "It's okay, I understand." She whispered. "I understand. I won't hold this against you and it won't make me love you any less. I will still marry you but you have to be honest with me from now on." She didn't know if Barry could hear her, but the balverine nuzzled her softly.

Miss Sarah remembered talking to Mr. Finn before he left the first time they came head to head with the Red Balverine. She had asked about the chances of Barry becoming a balverine, but Mr. Finn waved her fears away, saying it was pretty rare, though not unheard of. Without knowing why, she asked that if it was the case, whether or not there was a cure. Mr. Finn shook his head remorsefully and told her if there was one, he didn't know of it.

Putting her hand on the balverine's cheek, Miss Sarah smiled softly. "Mr. Finn almost killed you last time. I bought this collar, so in case you ever came around again, people would know that you weren't some wild beast. They would know that you had someone who cared for you and didn't want to see you die." Miss Sarah held up the collar and opened its fasten with a soft click. "If it means I won't have you next to me for a few days every month, I understand. Know that I will miss you, and when your time as this monster is done, your side of the bed will still be there and so will I. I will never leave your side. I will be your wife and your keeper."

Holding up the collar, Miss Sarah started to cry. "I think deep down, I knew but didn't want to believe it. Please, accept this gift so no one will harm you when the beast blood takes over."

The Red Balverine stared at Miss Sarah for a bit. The look in his eyes was a somber one, letting Miss Sarah know he understood her. He lowered his neck and placed his head on her shoulder, though not all the way as not to crush her. Miss Sarah slowly and carefully snapped the collar onto the balverine and stepped back. The red leather shined in the moonlight. The hand that housed her ring stroked the collar softly and shined alongside it.

The balverine nuzzled her softly and motioned toward his back. Miss Sarah looked at him questionably as he lowered himself to the ground. "You want me to…ride on your back?" she asked, pointing to his back. The Red Balverine nodded and waited. Miss Sarah shrugged and climbed on the balverine. Like hiding a horse with no saddle, Miss Sarah held onto the collar like a rein and held on as the balverine started to gallop through the woods.

The balverine started to speed up a bit, but Miss Sarah held on tight. The balverine roared loudly as he galloped with Miss Sarah on his back. The entire forest heard him as he galloped faster. He stopped at the path and motioned to his rider, as if asking where she wanted to go. Miss Sarah looked around and noticed the path to the manor was clear. "I think I want to show 'Mommy and Daddy' my new pet." Miss Sarah grinned a very Reaver-esque grin and motioned for the balverine to continue.

Inside the manor, Reaver tapped his gloved fingers against his arms. His servants stood behind his chair, as if waiting for him to say the word so they could throw the unwanted guests out. Mrs. Hatch stayed close to Reaver as well, cracking her knuckles and thinking she could take Miss Sarah's mother in a fight, easily. Geoffrey kept his distance. He knew when trouble was about to happen. "When Sarah was a little girl, she used to bring home small animals and call them 'pets'." Miss Sarah's mother said, when little Reavie had made her presence known. Reavie had been sleeping in her basket in Reaver's office and only woke up when she heard Miss Sarah's outburst earlier in the evening.

Reavie purred softly and cuddled close to Reaver. Reavie was immediately smitten with Geoffrey, but hissed when his parents tried to pet her. Reaver believed animals could sense evil, which is why many animals avoided him. "She brought home a big frog one day and put it in our garden. It took the exterminator three hours to catch that thing. So, this cat-"

"She has a name and it's Reavie." Reaver interrupted, his arms still folded.

"I detest animals. We made sure the children didn't have any, as we think getting attached to any kind of animal is a waste of time and resources. Messy, worthless creatures." Miss Sarah's father said, before anyone else could say anything. "Your little 'Reavie', what pedigree is she?"

Reaver shrugged. "I haven't the foggiest." He murmured as Reavie jumped in his lap. "She's a cat. More importantly, she's _MY_ cat. That should be enough information on how wonderful she is." Reaver cooed as he scratched Reavie's chin. "Yes, my dear, you're wonderful, just like me."

Miss Sarah's mother scoffed and stood up. "This has gone on long enough. Reaver, we don't appreciate that you treat your cat better than you treat our daughter and we don't like how you've allowed her farce of a romance to continue with that butler!"

Geoffrey stood up. "Please, ignore my mother and father. We're really grateful you've invited us into your home, Reaver."

"Don't lie for us, Geoffrey!" shouted his mother. "We know when we're not welcome, and of all the people in Albion, I figured you would see our point of view, Reaver. It seems we were wrong in that regard. So, let's get this over with. Reaver, the real reason we're here is to take our Sarah back. Now, we'll pay any price to release our daughter from your service. Name it and we'll pay it. We just want her out of here and back home where she belongs; away from this crazy manor and its insane inhabitants!"

Geoffrey sat down near the servants. He could tell this was the final straw his parents had plucked and felt the tension rise in the dining room. He could no longer stick up for his parents, as Geoffrey felt they had gone too far in someone else's home. Reaver gave Reavie to Rosie and stood up. The candles from dinner had almost gone out, making the shadows on his face creepier. Reaver slowly lifted his head and put his hand on his side. He laughed softly, turning into a hearty guffaw. His servants were scared.

Reaver's laugh echoed through the halls of his manor. Reaver, who always kept his Dragonstomper handy, pulled it out of its holster and glared at the couple. "Ha…ha…ha…get off my property…" he laughed, pointing his gun at the couple. Miss Sarah's parents looked stunned and confused. "You can insult my servants, complain about the food your daughter made, and my décor all you want, but when you insult me directly in my own home…well, you've very much crossed the line."

Reaver stood up and aimed his weapon. "You can leave or I can have my servants throw you out. Your choice, but I do know my servants are just itching you toss you out on your proper, though impeccably dressed, behinds." Reaver and the servants made it very clear, without words, that Miss Sarah's parents had overstayed their welcome. "I am only giving you this chance once. I suggest the next time you come to my home it had better be with an apology!"

"We don't have to stand for this!" Miss Sarah's father shouted as he and his wife got up. "We did not come all this way to be insulted!"

"You sure came a long way to insult all of us!" Willa shouted, not asking her boss for permission to speak. "You two have done nothing but complain since you got here, despite being given the hospitality you don't deserve! You don't want to reconcile with Miss Sarah, you just wanted to cause trouble! Your entire visit here has been horrible and you're not welcome here!"

"Take the hint!" Beryl shouted when Willa was done. "Get lost! We don't want you here!"

"You've outstayed your welcome. I suggest you go before something bad happens." Rosie said, stoically. Her glance was intense.

"Miss Sarah was right about you two. You say you only have her best interests at heart, but all you're doing is thinking about yourselves! She finally found a place where people care for her and you want to take that away too!" Gordon balled up his fists and had to be kept from continuing.

Reavie hissed loudly as Mrs. Hatch stood. "I may not have had all the money in the world, but I let my Barry know each and every day how important he was to me. I never saw my son as a commodity to help my social standing like you saw poor Sarah and Geoffrey. I don't agree with being mad at one's parents, but it seems her bad memories of you outweigh any good ones. Has it ever occurred to either of you that you're losing out on the chance to see your daughter as an adult? Are you even shaken by the fact that she is so traumatized by the negligence that she doesn't want you apart of this beautiful experience she will be undertaking soon? Are you two so obsessed with class and propriety that you're willing to lose your daughter and not be with her on this important moment in her life? Are you risking never being able to see your future grandchildren? I've never met such selfish people in my entire life!"

Miss Sarah's parents looked at each other solemnly and said nothing. Geoffrey shook his head, letting Reaver and his servants know that he has given this speech before and it was just as useless. "Mother, Father, we're leaving. I'll escort you back to the train station tomorrow but I don't think it's a good idea for you two to stay for the wedding." Geoffrey bowed apologetically to his host and walked with his parents toward the front of the house.

The servants didn't bother to see them out. Reaver heard Geoffrey murmur to his parents that this was the reason his wife didn't want them around. He put his gun away when the front doors slammed. Reaver turned to his servants, who were expecting to be reprimanded for speaking out of turn. "That…was beautiful, my lovelies!" Reaver shouted with his arms in the air. Reavie mewed softly and hopped from Rosie back to Reaver. "Ahh, you were wonderful too, my dear. If there is one thing I can't stand, its ungrateful guests! They're lucky I didn't throw them in the alligator pit!" Reaver shouted, leaving the dining room for the study with Mrs. Hatch in tow.

The servants started cleaning up from dinner and then looked at each other. "We have an alligator pit?" Willa asked.

"Would it surprise you if we did?" Beryl answered. Willa shrugged and followed behind the others, taking the plates to the kitchen.

Outside the manor, Miss Sarah's parents huffed and complained, with Geoffrey slightly behind them. "The indignity of being thrown out into the cold like this! And from Reaver's house of all places! That place is a den of insanity and _we_ get kicked out!"

Geoffrey stopped when he heard footsteps coming from the hill. His parents kept going, until they reached the path leading to the hill. They didn't notice that Geoffrey was no longer behind them. They looked up at their daughter coming down from the hill. "Leaving so soon?" she asked, her arms folded. "I am going to assume Mr. Reaver kicked you out. Well, I'm not surprised. I've never known Mr. Reaver to be very patient with his guests. Let me guess: you insulted him in some manner, yes?"

"Sarah, we will not be talked to like this! We are not children!" her father shouted.

"Funny, because you're both throwing tantrums like one and it's not befitting either of you at all. Well, this visit has been nice, but as I'm sure Mr. Reaver told you, you're not welcome here. If you want to come to my wedding, you'd better have sunnier attitudes." Miss Sarah stood her ground, letting them know she was not a little girl anymore.

"Sarah, listen to reason." Her mother moaned. "Come back with us, you don't belong here!"

Miss Sarah sighed. "I do belong here. It's you two that aren't welcome." The moon lit up the area, revealing the Red Balverine standing right behind Miss Sarah. "I don't believe you've met this pet before. Unlike that frog I brought home that you had killed, this one can defend himself. And by the way, he hasn't eaten tonight."

Without needing to say anything, the Red Balverine charged at Miss Sarah's parents, chasing them all the way through Millfields. The Red Balverine's roars echoed through the hills, followed by the screams of two terrified nobles running for their lives. Miss Sarah laughed as her brother joined her. "So, my future brother-in-law has a night job." Geoffrey stated, putting his arm around his sister. Before Miss Sarah could ask, Geoffrey chuckled. "Do you know how many balverine hunts I was forced to attend as a boy with our father? After a while, you just know to see the signs. It's alright; I won't hold it against him. He's a good man and I know he makes you happy. The bad part is that Father knows the signs, too. Of course, he might be too busy running to put two and two together."

Miss Sarah smiled at her brother with her arms still crossed. Geoffrey cleared his throat after another roar echoed from the distance. "I'm taking Mother and Father to the train station tomorrow. I told them they aren't welcome at the wedding unless they behave. I know you're not ready to forgive them and after this, I doubt you ever will be. Sometimes, my dear baby sister, a relationship can't be fixed. I put up with them, but you don't have to if you're not ready to. I'll bear the brunt of the burden for both of us, so don't worry. Just know that I love you and I'll be right there at your wedding, cheering you both on."

"Thank you, Geoffrey." Miss Sarah hugged her brother tightly.

Geoffrey hugged Miss Sarah back and started to leave. "Well, I'd better go find them before your fiancé tears them apart. If you need anything, I'll be staying at the Inn in town!" Geoffrey shouted as he walked toward the other bridge.

Miss Sarah waved back and folded her arms. She made her way back toward the manor, where the others were waiting for her. She smiled warmly to her friends and they walked with her into the manor. While she never intended to actually harm her parents, and the Red Balverine knew that, Miss Sarah was happy to finally have them out of her hair. She decided that, as an apology for making the entire manor deal with her parents, Miss Sarah was going to make her ravioli specialty the next night.

Turning to the gate after the others went inside, Miss Sarah sighed happily promising to wait up for Barry.

_A Few Days Later_

Barry often felt Reaver left mountains of paperwork for him to do on purpose. Barry also didn't know who he was fooling by thinking that, because he knew that's exactly what Reaver did. As the servants kept busy and Miss Sarah's brother talked business with Reaver in the study, Barry crunched numbers and kept the books in Reaver's office. His figures strewn about the desk, Barry tapped his pen against an account book and nodded as he continued the paperwork.

Though the door wasn't closed all the way, Barry was still surprised to see the door open. Miss Sarah held a tray with a tea set and invited herself in. "You've been in here since Mr. Reaver left this morning. He's already back and talking business with my brother in the study. I thought you could use a pick-me-up." She chirped, finding a clear spot to place the tray. Barry nodded and sat back. He was almost finished, but keeping Reaver's accounts in order was an exhausting job. "So, is Mr. Reaver still filthy rich?" Miss Sarah giggled, pouring Barry a cup of tea.

Barry chuckled softly and leaned back further in the chair. "Master Reaver could literally burn down the manor and have it rebuilt in solid gold ten times and he'd still have more money than I'd be able to make in my lifetime." Barry graciously took the tea cup from Miss Sarah and took a soft sip.

Miss Sarah smiled and sat in the chair across from the desk. "Money has brought me nothing but misery. I don't care if they disinherit me, my parents can keep their money."

Sipping his tea, Barry only nodded. "Money is nice, but it doesn't make good people. I suppose working for Mr. Reaver for a while wouldn't be so bad." Barry stood up and walked over to the window. The wedding was only a few weeks away and everything was almost set up. "I know tradition says the bride's parents pay for the wedding, but I think that might not be the case. Mother insisted on paying, and honestly I don't care what she does with her money. I'm sorry you couldn't mend things with your parents, lovey."

Miss Sarah sighed and walked over to Barry. "Just have your mother send them her bill." She giggled, placing her hand on Barry's shoulder. She traced her hand along his shirt collar until her finger hit something under his jacket. She pulled the jacket aside a bit and saw the red collar. Miss Sarah blushed and looked away, but felt Barry bring her closer.

"I'm sorry I never told you. I never wanted you to find out. I promise I'll try to keep it under control." Barry murmured, holding his fiancé close. "I guess both parts of my belong to you now, lovey."

With a soft hum, Miss Sarah looked up at Barry. "I will always wait up for you." She chirped.

A soft knock came at the door, interrupting the moment. Geoffrey looked around the office and smiled at Barry. "So, this is how Reaver keeps tabs on his expenses. Good system." Geoffrey joked, sitting in a chair across from the desk. He picked up an account book out of nosiness and flipped through it. He looked impressed. "Sarah, my dear sister, can I speak to my brother-in-law-to-be privately for a moment?"

Confused, Miss Sarah only nodded and took the tea tray from the office, closing the door behind her. She passed by decorators going about and Mrs. Hatch shouting orders to some of them. Miss Sarah continued to the kitchen and decided to start on dinner. She noticed the somber look on her boss's face when she walked into the study to ask if he wanted any wine before dinner. Reaver didn't say anything as he waved Miss Sarah away.

The mood had been off since Reaver got home. Geoffrey had been over almost every day since the incident with his parents and today he seemed to be on a mission. Every day after he left, Reaver seemed to be in a sour mood. Today was no different. Though, tonight Reaver seemed like he had resigned on something important.

Reaver got up when he heard Barry and Geoffrey coming down the stairs. Barry went right for Miss Sarah, who was starting to make dinner. Barry took Miss Sarah in his arms and kissed her deeply. "Your brother has offered me a job in Brightwall." He said before Miss Sarah could ask. "He said he needs someone with accountancy training to take over for him as the town clerk when he resigns next spring. He wants to start me off as his assistant and then have me take over fully after a while."

Miss Sarah just blinked. "Are you going to take it?" she asked.

"I told him I'd talk it over with you first. After dinner, we'll talk about it." Barry still had a beaming smile and hugged Miss Sarah tightly.

Reaver didn't like this one bit, but Geoffrey made a pretty convincing argument. He didn't want to lose the best assistant he ever had, nor did he want to lose the best cook he ever had. But Geoffrey made a good argument. "Think about it, Reaver; a chance for both of them to make a life for themselves. Even you have to admit they've earned it."

Reaver waved his hand at Geoffrey. "Yes, yes, all that sap. Enough sap in this house lately to make pancakes. Speaking of food, where is my dinner?!" Reaver shouted across the foyer at Miss Sarah. Bowing apologetically, Miss Sarah ran back into the kitchen to finish dinner. Reaver shook his head and went up to the dining room with Geoffrey in tow. "All this wedding and marriage nonsense is not sitting well with me, Geoffrey. The sooner this wedding is over, the better we'll all be!" Reaver sat at the head of the table and sighed.

"Oh, now you have to admit, Mr. Hatch's work productivity has gone up since the engagement." Geoffrey stated.

Reaver nodded. "Yes, ever since he found a reason to keep living, Hatch's work has gotten better. I suppose some good will come out of this. But marriage is so…" Reaver looked like he was struggling to find the right word. "…it's so permanent unless you're a good shot with a rifle."

Geoffrey laughed and then realized Reaver wasn't joking. "Oh, marriage can be fun. Think of it as an investment: like any good investment, you only get out as much as you put in. My parents had the wrong idea and treated marriage like a business contract. In that regard, they are perfect for each other. Though I haven't seen them kiss since my sister was born. It's just nice to have someone to wake up next to and someone to look forward to everyday. I went against my parent's wishes when I married my wife, but I don't regret it. Seeing her lovely face every day is worth it. She keeps the house, cooks my meals, and not to mention she keeps me in line." Geoffrey chuckled and noticed Reaver didn't find it amusing. "Maybe it's not for everyone."

"It certainly isn't for me." Reaver murmured, as the servants started their evening rounds. "It's for people like Hatch and Miss Sarah. People who feel the need to procreate and keep this world filled with more complacent people. I just don't see the appeal in it. Of course, the business aspect certainly is appealing. With Miss Sarah possibly leaving, this manor will lack the 'lady-of-the-house' feel. There needs to be some kind of woman's touch around here."

Reaver sat back in his chair and watched the servants go about. When Rosie entered the dining room to set the table, Reaver stared at her. A devilish grin traced across his face. "Yes, that is exactly what my humble home needs." He murmured, after Rosie left his line of sight. "Lakeview Manor needs a certain someone to keep this rabble under control." Reaver watched Rosie walk back in with more dishes and set the table's last spots. Reaver was an opportunist, if anything. He knew when a good idea came his way and he knew how to snatch it up. He watched Rosie walk away and scratched his chin.

"More changes are coming…and I think it will prove how loyal my Circus Rejects really are to me…"

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my doves!<strong>

**So, to start off I have good news and bad news: good news is I've pretty much got the rest of the story mapped out, so updates should come quicker. Bad news actually involved another fic of mine over in the Portal area. "One Big Aperture Family" is going on hiatus until further notice. I'll explain in my journal update on dA.**

**On a lighter note, the wedding is coming up soon! Oh, have I got lots in store for you guys! Including, but not limited to: a bachelor party the likes Albion has never seen with an unexpected (but still kind of expected) ending.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which the servants will ask some pretty tough questions and one servant will eat her own words.**

**Well, apologies for this taking so long, but you know how weird life can get. Family, work, the unending feeling of dread…*ahem* but enough negative. I have a few ideas for some fics I hope to post in the foreseeable future. I recently became addicted to a podcast called "Welcome to Night Vale" and well… *happy jumping* I might have a one shot planned for that soon!**

**And here comes the good part! Read, review, and be merry my doves! Keep the story going with some tasty, magical reviews (lol, just kidding. That's my tired mind talking). Also, keep a look out on my deviantArt page if you haven't already. I'll hopefully start posting "Reaver's Servants" there soon, once I finish editing the older chapters. I also post news and other weird musings there, too. And my lovely friend robowarrior01908 has been doing some lovely fan art of my characters. Go check those out and show her some love!**

**With that, I now go to sleep…read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	33. Reaver 'Round the Rosie

_Reaver's Servants_

Reaver 'Round the Rosie

It was a terrible night for rain. The entire manor was dark and the only sounds being made came from the upstairs office, where the master of the house was busy with paperwork. The rain trickled down on the roof of the manor, sounding like rice in a pan. The tension in the manor could be cut with a knife and served for dinner. No one wanted to talk about what was causing the tension and they certainly didn't want to bring it up around said party.

Late night had settled in and all but two servants were awake. The grandfather clock in the foyer sounded off twelve gongs, though the servants weren't sleepy at all. The last few days had them thinking about things they dared not think before.

The wind was picking up outside, indicating a storm coming. The servants sat in different chairs in the dining room. A mostly cold tea set remained near the part of the table Reaver usually sat in. Tonight, that chair was occupied by Rosie. This wasn't a meeting of any kind. No one had called it, and no one was officiating over it. When the day's duties had been finished, the servants somehow found their way to the dining room and sat.

Willa sat with on leg over the arm of her chair, not very proper considering they were all still in uniform. Beryl leaned against the arm of her chair while playing with a tassel from the table cloth. Gordon leaned his chair back on the back two legs while rocking with his foot against the table. Rosie sat straight as a pole, only observing.

The latest gossip around the manor occurred a few days before. The wedding of Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah attracted some unwanted visitors who ended up being chased off by a balverine. Though one visitor was welcome, Miss Sarah's older brother, Geoffrey. However, he came on more than just Miss Sarah's invitation to the wedding. He came offering a new job to Mr. Hatch and it was tempting. The servants got most of the details from Rosie, who had a knack for eavesdropping.

Rosie heard Geoffrey talk to his future brother-in-law about an assistant job in Brightwall. It was to be Geoffrey's assistant clerk, but only for a few months. After a few months, Barry would take over as the town clerk and Geoffrey would go off with his wife to another business venture far off in another city. Rosie had listened in more closely, even after Geoffrey had left for the night. She could hear Barry discussing it with Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah seemed hesitant about leaving the other servants, so she told her brother they'd talk it over.

Before Rosie could get any more information, Reaver had caught her (in _his_ eavesdropping spot, no less) and motioned for her to leave the area.

This marked the first time any of them had seen Reaver leave his office in at least a few days. After the unpleasantness of Miss Sarah's parents, Reaver seemed to lock himself into his office. Reaver didn't even go to the factories for the last couple of days. The only time he left his office was for meals and when it was time for bed. Even then, he spoke to no one. Even on their annual Wednesday night off, Reaver didn't leave this office.

Even Barry didn't know what was going on in that office. Barry had mentioned the last time Reaver spent that long in his office he was drawing up a contract between himself and then King Logan. Barry decided he didn't need to go into any more detail than that.

The servants didn't seem bothered by their boss's absence. It was the least of their worries. Rosie seemed pretty nonchalant about it, though that's how she felt about everything. Rosie glanced at her friends but didn't move much. It was Willa that started the discussion.

"So, it's come to this?" she asked, not sure if anyone was actually paying attention. Willa seemed the angriest out of all of them. She gripped the hem of her uniform tightly, as if trying to distract herself from the truth of the situation. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been holding back tears. "We left the circus and promised to stay together. Doesn't that mean anything?"

Beryl looked at Willa and sighed. "I guess it wasn't forever. Of all people, I figured Miss Sarah would always be around."

Gordon stopped tempting fate with the chair and moved it back to all four legs. "Come on, we all knew this was coming. Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah have always been at least two steps away from tearing each other's clothes off, we knew they'd eventually get married. But I must say, even I didn't expect this."

Rosie said nothing.

"It's not fair!" shouted Willa. Beryl shushed her softly, but Willa didn't seem to notice. "She's the one that made us all promise! When we left, she made us all promise we'd stick together and take care of each other!" Willa sat up straight and folded her arms. "How can they even be considering leaving?"

Beryl decided to steer her attention to her empty tea cup. "We may not like it, but we have to be happy for Miss Sarah. Not many people can say they've found love."

"She needs us right now as much as we need her. She needs us to keep her from making a mistake. I know Miss Sarah is anxious to start a life with Mr. Hatch, but she doesn't have to move away to do that. I know she's a lady of routine, and starting a new one somewhere else won't sit well with her." Gordon leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Rosie said nothing.

Willa kept her pouting face. "Miss Sarah can't leave! Mr. Hatch can climb the peaks of Mistpeak for all I care, but Miss Sarah has to stay here! She has to know how much we need her here!"

"What will happen to us when she leaves?" asked Beryl. Gordon and Willa shrugged. "Miss Sarah has kept us together for so long; I don't think I can stand seeing someone else in the kitchen. I don't know about this whole wedding. If I knew it'd mean Miss Sarah was going to leave, I never would have given my blessing! Who's to say that she's not the reason Mr. Reaver hasn't fired us all yet?"

Gordon sat up straight. "That's not fair, Beryl. You can't just take back a blessing. Besides, we all know this wedding is a train wreck. I know it, you know it, and even Mr. Reaver knows it. I'm sure even he's just as upset at this as we are. You know he hates being inconvenienced by doing actual work around here. He'll have to hire a new cook and a new assistant."

Rosie said nothing.

Tapping her finger on the table, Willa looked like she was about to burst. "We agreed to be her bridesmaids, but I can't agree to let her go! What will happen when she leaves? Will we all eventually leave as well or will we stick together? Will Mr. Reaver see that we're useless without her and fire us on the spot? And what if the new cook and assistant are mean to us?"

"I didn't think about that." Beryl murmured. "We can't let Miss Sarah break us up like this! She's the reason we even have these jobs and now she's just going to leave us to the wolves? I bet she didn't even think about who she was hurting when she accepted Mr. Hatch's proposal!"

Before Gordon could speak, Rosie stood up, slamming her fists on the table. "I think you're all being selfish!" she shouted. Everyone looked at Rosie. Rosie got up from her seat and made her way to the right side of the table. "If any of you thought for one moment about Miss Sarah's happiness instead of your own livelihood, you'll see this entire discussion is pointless. Miss Sarah loves us all and she's been good to us, but she has her own life to live. Who are we to tell her not to marry Mr. Hatch?"

The others looked at each other. "But what will happen when she leaves? You can't promise we'll all still be together!" Willa shouted.

Rosie folded her arms and sighed. "No, I can't promise that. But we can't deny her a chance to be happy. Even if it is away from us, Miss Sarah deserves her own life. We may not like it, but it's not our decision to make. It's hers, and she's going to make it her way on her terms."

"You can't seriously be for Miss Sarah leaving!" Beryl accused, standing in front of her chair. "Miss Sarah leaving will be a disaster! Who will cook our favorite meals and make us feel better when Mr. Reaver puts us down? Miss Sarah knows how I like my pancakes and the only person to perfect it! I would feel so…dirty for eating someone else's pancakes!"

"I don't like it either, but we shouldn't stand in the way if she so chooses." Rosie answered simply. "I think you've all spent too much time thinking about the material of what you're losing when and if Miss Sarah leaves. You didn't think about losing a good friend. You thought about losing your meal ticket. Is that all she is to you guys? Are you no better than her parents? Miss Sarah is a living, breathing human being and she is as entitled to find a new life outside the manor as any of us. Nothing has stopped anyone else from leaving or staying!"

The other servants looked at each other and then back at Rosie. She had a pretty good point. Rosie started to walk away. "Rosie, wait! What is going to happen if she leaves?" asked Beryl.

Rosie only shrugged. "I don't know. Life will go on, I suppose. Eventually, we'll get used to not having Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch around. We'll miss her, but at the same time we'll be happy that she's found her own way and that she's living a good life." Rosie walked away at that moment.

The entire dining room was silent again. "How can Rosie be so cold?" Willa finally whispered to Beryl. "She of all people should be the saddest about this. She's always been the closest to Miss Sarah; I figured she'd be just as upset as we are, if not more."

"Well, you got to hand it to Rosie; she knows how to keep her cool about stuff like this. I'm sure she's just as upset about it as we are, if not more. But Rosie's not one for big emotional scenes. I'm jealous of how well she's taking this. I'm sure she's alright. She's Rosie." Beryl's comforting reassurance did little for Willa and did nothing for Gordon, who was fighting back the urge to follow Rosie.

Eventually the other servants went back to their rooms to try and sleep, but Rosie lingered downstairs. She stood in front of the kitchen doors, wondering if she believed the words she shouted at her friends. The words she heard the others say after she left where the ones that lingered. Yes, Rosie was a strong woman, but even a strong person has a weakness. That was something she learned in the circus and it was a lesson that Reaver reminded the servants of at every appropriate opportunity.

Miss Sarah had been the only person Rosie trusted with her secrets and Rosie often felt closer to her than any of the others. Rosie pressed her hand against the cold wood door of the kitchen and closed her eyes tight. She could feel the world around her moving and tried to focus her mind. Rosie opened her eyes after a few minutes and sighed softly. For the first time in years, Rosie couldn't see anything past the present. It terrified Rosie, but at the same time it comforted her.

While she doubted she was losing her abilities, Rosie decided that the stress of the confrontation with the others was blocking any prediction. For the first time, Rosie would have welcomed a prediction. She needed the comfort of knowing what was going to happen. She sighed and held onto her forearms tightly. The rain outside started hitting the windows hard and the wind made the windows make odd thumping noises. Then Rosie heard a click.

_A click?_ She thought, looking at a nearby window. The click was followed by a static sound, like one would hear before someone puts a record on a gramophone. Rosie turned around fast and saw a soft glimmer of light coming from the study. The study didn't have a door, but it had fancy red curtains that could be pulled whenever Reaver didn't want to be disturbed. Rosie knew never to break the rule of going into the study when the doorway curtains were drawn, but something was leading her in that direction.

Rosie's life had been led by unknown forces for as long as she could remember. What she was willing to tell the others of her past before the circus was always the same story. Yes, she used to belong to a gypsy caravan that traveled, but the others never knew any more than that. She never told anyone of the forces that guided her throughout her childhood and how these same ethereal forces led her to the circus where she would eventually meet the people she would come to know as her family. Now, these forces were leading her to the study.

Rosie reached her hand slowly toward one of the curtains and lifted it from her line of sight. The study was lit by only by the fireplace and the chairs had been moved back toward the bookshelves. The rug had been rolled up and placed with the chairs. The hardwood floor, which Reaver had waxed earlier that day, reflected the light of the fireplace onto the figure standing by the gramophone.

Reaver thumbed through his records before finding the one he was looking for. He knew Rosie was there without looking up. "You're late." He murmured, carefully taking the album from its sleeve. Reaver wasn't wearing his hat; it was sitting on the table. In the light, Rosie could see that Reaver's hair was actually a very dark brown.

"Late for what?" Rosie asked, stepping into the study.

"Our dancing lesson, my dear." Reaver chuckled, putting the record on the gramophone. "As the best man and maid of honor, we will have to dance at the reception. It's just one short dance, right after the happy couple start their first dance, but I won't have you stepping on my feet."

Rosie stepped closer to her boss. Reaver had a look of lucid bliss on his face as he prepared the gramophone. Rosie could feel something off about her boss tonight. He didn't seem mad that she had broken one of his rules or that she was up past bedtime. He was expecting her, as if he had actually told her to come to the study that night. Rosie often felt she wasn't the only one in the house driven by ethereal forces, but never thought Reaver bought into such things.

Reaver placed the needle on the record and a solemn yet beautiful melody played through the brass cone. Reaver looked like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days, but the manner in which he was holding himself up made him look refreshed. Reaver held out his hand to Rosie. "Shall we, Rosie?"

Guided by something else entirely, Rosie gently laid her hand in Reaver's, letting him lead a slow waltz to the disturbingly beautiful music coming from the gramophone. Rosie didn't look at Reaver, who seemed determined to look in Rosie's eyes. Rosie was surprisingly light on her feet.

"Do smile a bit, my dove." Reaver chided, keeping his hand on Rosie's waist. "From my understanding, a wedding is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"The others would beg to differ, Sir." Rosie retorted. The dance didn't stop. The violins from the record guided the two in this dance, seamlessly gliding across the floor along with the spirits. The music was smooth like silk and entranced Rosie despite her misgivings from earlier. "They only see what they are losing from this."

Reaver only nodded before pulling Rosie closer. "It is a tragedy, I suppose." Reaver sighed. "I'll be losing the best cook and assistant I ever had. Ahh, but that is life. When the sun sets and night comes, we often hide from it instead of embracing it. We act as if the sun will never rise again. If I had my way, I'd order Hatch and Miss Sarah to stay put."

"I thought you did have your way." Rosie found herself being twirled slowly by Reaver. The room had a feeling of openness, despite the closeness of the two.

Reaver only laughed. "In my manor, I am master. But when I leave these halls, I am only Reaver. Granted, it does command a sort of respect and awe, but it's a hollow thing. I can shout all the orders I want, but I can't very well command someone to stop being human." Reaver pulled Rosie back to him and waltzed around the gramophone without incident. "I tried once, it didn't end well. Couldn't stay in Bloodstone after that horrid incident, which is why I only go back when I'm needed."

Only a hum came from Rosie's lips. In the light of the fire, Rosie's face took a softer design. Reaver almost had to do a double take when he saw the peaceful smile grace across Rosie's face. Where she often looked like she was at a funeral, the moment had Rosie in a tender spot. She looked almost human to Reaver and that's exactly what he was going for. He'd need her to be human for what he had planned.

"You know Rosie; if you tried hard enough you could actually pass as human." Reaver joked. Rosie made no reaction. "Now, don't pout like a child! It's called a joke; you know those offbeat little statements that are supposed to make people laugh?"

Rosie lifted her eyes and matched her boss's gaze. Reaver never realized it, but Rosie's eyes seemed to change color. Usually, they were brown but tonight they seemed to change from brown to green. Just when he thought he knew Rosie, Reaver found himself second guessing again. Rosie had the look of a life lived, though she was only in her late twenties (or so she claimed). The other servants often said Reaver had this look about him.

The spirits seemed to be guiding the two in this ethereal dance. It almost seemed as if only Reaver and Rosie existed. Rosie found herself relaxing, but she knew better than to do that around Reaver.

"The manor will be lonesome without Hatch, I will admit. He keeps this place up and running. I often think he's like a wife in that regard." Reaver joked. Rosie said nothing. "A conversation usually has two people talking, Rosie. I say something, and then you reply, and it repeats like that for a bit." Reaver warned.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Rosie murmured. "Earlier, I accused the others of being selfish for not wanting Miss Sarah to leave. But after the conversation I started wondering what would happen when and if Miss Sarah was to leave. We've been together for years, and when we left the circus we all promised to stay together. I can't help but feel that she's breaking the promise we all made."

"Well, you couldn't very well think that would last forever, did you?" Reaver asked, keeping in step with the music. "Rosie, out of all my staff, I figured you'd have more sense than that." Reaver sounded like a father scolding his child for being bad. Reaver often talked to the servants like they were children.

In the short time they had worked for him, Reaver realized he knew more about this group of servants than he did about his former staff. Reaver made it a note not to get attached to the help, since they never really lasted too long in his service. He didn't even recall the names of his former servants, but Reaver knew each of his current servants by name and everything down to their favorite colors. In the time they had all been together, Reaver became fond of his "Circus Rejects" and like the demented little family they had become.

"I suppose I'm a little selfish in that regard." Rosie retorted. "I scolded the others for thinking about their own happiness instead of Miss Sarah's and here I am wondering the same things they are. I guess we all thought that Miss Sarah would marry Mr. Hatch, move into his room, and life would go on. I guess we never actually thought about what would happen after that. I feel horrible for thinking about it."

"It's human to think of one's own benefit first, Rosie." Reaver extended his arm out and twirled Rosie before bringing her back. "There is nothing wrong with being selfish. Why, look where it's gotten me! Over three hundred years old and I have more money than I can care to count! Though, I admit it's a bit bothersome to be cursed with such excellence and grace."

Rosie cracked a small smile. "You don't look a day over two hundred and fifty, Mr. Reaver." Rosie joked. Reaver glared at her. "It's called a joke, Sir. You know, those offbeat-"

"Yes, yes, ha-ha, a joke on the boss." Reaver snorted. "I guess even you are capable of such acts. The more I learn about you, the scarier my life becomes."

Rosie sighed. "I guess we never thought about whether or not Miss Sarah wanted to have a home of her own or even if she wanted children."

"Do you see yourself doing such things?" Reaver asked. Rosie seemed taken aback by the question. "Marrying some poor sap and leaving, I mean. Do you see any future for yourself outside these manor walls with the others?"

The dance had slowed down. Rosie shook her head. "No, Sir. I don't make it a habit to look into my own future. But I'm happy here, Mr. Reaver. I'm happy here at Lakeview Manor. Happier than I've been in quite a long time, I might even say. I don't feel I'll be leaving any time soon."

Reaver smiled and stopped the dance. "That's just what I wanted to hear. Rosie, I must admit there is more to tonight than just practicing for this farce of a wedding. I am a business man and I only invest in a venture if I know it will be fruitful. I guess I should be honest: I've been observing you, Rosie. For quite a while, actually, and you never cease to amaze me." Reaver stepped away from Rosie and walked over to the table housing the gramophone. He picked up a small packet of papers and walked back to his dancing partner. "I won't insult you with small talk, Rosie. It's a straight forward…_proposal_."

Rosie took the packet of papers from her boss and read each line. She didn't seem to understand what she was reading. It was obviously a contract of some kind. "What is all this, Mr. Reaver?" Rosie asked, flipping the page.

"That contract is a _proposal_, my dear Rosie. It states in no uncertain terms that you will become the lady of the house should the need arise. And it has." Reaver faced Rosie and smiled down at her. "With Hatch leaving a strong possibility, I'm going to need someone around to keep this rabble in shape. It entitles keeping my affairs in order, the house in good standing, as well as keeping the servants from killing each other, and so on." Reaver waved his hand dismissively in the air as Rosie continued to read. "I need someone who won't dive too deep into details they need not know, but keeps an eye on the details of the house. I need someone sturdy to not only make the house look good, but make me look good." Reaver snickered, brushing off his vest.

Rosie glared at the contact with confusion. "Mr. Reaver, I don't understand. By the way this is all worded it sounds like you're asking me to…" Rosie's eyes widened and she looked up at her boss.

"Rosie, I won't lie to you. You've never lied to me, so I owe you the same courtesy. Do you have any idea what goes into keeping this house up and going? Sure, you clean my room and help the others with the dusting and the sweeping and the other nonsense, but do you actually know what keeps our demented little family together?" Reaver asked. Rosie shook her head. "Our psychotic family is held together by the glue of caring. You all trust each other and more importantly, you trust me. At least the sanest extent one can. Rosie, I don't want to see that glue undone. It is that formula that keeps this house going. I need someone trustworthy to keep this house and its inhabitants in line. Of all of you, you're the most obvious choice. If Hatch and Miss Sarah leave, I want you to help me keep this manor from falling apart. Rosie, I'm not asking has a passionate man, but as a businessman. Rosie, I'm asking you to marry me."

The entire room went silent. Rosie froze in her spot, dropping the contract and looking up at her boss. "I know it sounds preposterous, and trust me I thought about it. The very idea of the amazing Reaver needing a wife, but I assure you, after much thought, it just seems more logical than hiring a new assistant. I think you'd make a sturdy wife to a great man such as myself. I think it's a good compromise, don't you, Rosie? I get to keep my home in order, and you get the pleasure of saying you're my wife. No other woman can say that, but they do dream about it, that I know of." Reaver chortled and looked at Rosie, who didn't move. "Now, don't be that way, my dove. Think of all you're gaining."

Rosie shook herself from her self-imposed hypnoses and looked at Reaver. "I don't understand…" she murmured. "Who benefits from this?"

"We both do! You get to shed the maid outfit for a lovely noble's outfit and I don't have to waste money hiring a new assistant." Reaver laughed.

"No, I'm asking what brought this along, Sir. You've never been the type to…" Rosie wanted to find the delicate words she needed to keep Reaver from getting mad. "…you don't seem like the type that would want or even care for a monogamous lifestyle. Just the other night, you had three women and a man in your bedroom making all sorts of odd sounds. The morning after, you had Mr. Hatch shoo them away, like they were just house guests. Having a wife doesn't seem like a choice you'd make."

Reaver turned away from Rosie and looked toward the window. The storm was still going strong. Reaver glared at the rain, as if it were a beggar on the street that was bothering him. Reaver often told the servants that he enjoyed the rain, but tonight he just wanted it to go away. "These nights are getting longer for me, Rosie." Reaver finally said. "I am not the man I used to be. I agree, the womanizing and the wealth put me in a bad light at the moment, but with all this talk of weddings and happiness and bunnies and butterflies or whatever constitutes happiness these days has me in a mood. Not a good one."

"If I may speak freely, Sir…" Rosie started. Reaver nodded and turned to her. "…it seems like this might just be another phase you're going through." Rosie folded her arms as Reaver looked at her. He looked like she just shot him in the heart. "Remember the time you wanted to try that new diet craze going around Bowerstone and you had Miss Sarah throw out all the fresh fruit and vegetables we had? That lasted a week before Mr. Hatch had to call in a doctor because you ate an entire pound of bacon. _Raw_."

Reaver leaned his back against the table and tapped his fingers on the smooth wood. Rosie didn't look like she was done. "And let's not forget the 'polka dot' incident last fall..." Rosie's expression didn't change one bit. "…when you had not just yourself, but all of us in those polka dot uniforms. Luckily, Mr. Hatch was able to talk you out of that phase before you refurnished the entire house."

"You make it sound like I need Hatch around to keep me from doing stupid things! I'll have you know, that as a man of means, I have to keep up certain appearances and so do my help!" Reaver shouted.

"I don't think you need Mr. Hatch or a wife, sir. It sounds like you need a mother to punish you whenever you've been bad." Rosie stated plainly.

Reaver's eyes lit up with a fire the likes Rosie had never seen. She didn't back down, however. Reaver stared at her deeply, but didn't say anything. He bent over to pick the contract off the floor. He held it up to the light and then handed it back to Rosie. "I don't need Hatch and I certainly don't need my mother!" Reaver scolded. "What I am offering you is an opportunity, Rosie. Think of it as getting a nice promotion without having to actually do anything! You go from being a maid to being Lady of the House! You'll get a nice substantial weekly allowance, you get to shed that uniform and wear regular clothing, and you never have to lift a finger again. You'll be hostess to the most elegant parties outside the Royal Galas, you'll have every luxury affordable at your disposal, you'll meet all the right people, and best of all: you get the honor, nay privilege of letting Albion know you tamed the wily, magnificent Reaver. All you have to do is stay by my side."

_Stay…_

That word hit Rosie hard. Rosie watched her boss stroll towards the fire. Rosie held the contract tightly. "Will I get a bigger room?" Rosie asked, though she wasn't sure why she asked that. It was all she could think of to ask. She wasn't sure how to process any of this.

"Of course you will, don't be silly! No wife of mine will sleep in the servant's quarters!" Reaver guffawed, taking the fire poker and poking the logs around in the fireplace. "You'll have the nicest room into the entire manor, as a matter of fact. Mine." Reaver put the fire poker back on its stand and turned to Rosie. "I figured you'd know a man and wife share a bed."

Rosie blushed a bit. "Mr. Reaver, I must say I never figured you as a man who would have an interest in me." Rosie hugged the contract tightly. Reaver's right eyebrow moved upward. "I've never known you to hold onto one lover for more than a night and now, you're asking me of all people to marry you. For a while, I thought you were scared of me." Rosie chuckled. "But you must admit it's a little unusual to find out someone of your particular 'tastes' would be in love with me…"

With that last statement, Reaver laughed loudly. Rosie loosened her grip on the contract and stared at Reaver. He was laughing so hard, she could see his back teeth. "You think this is about love?!" Reaver laughed, barely able to breathe. "You, of all people, think this is about something as absurd as _love_?!" Reaver balanced himself against the fireplace and caught his breath. "Please, don't be daft! Marriage isn't about love! It's an arrangement! A business deal to be conducted and seen through to the very end, and even sometimes broken! Hatch and Miss Sarah can call it whatever they want, what with monogamy and vows and even procreating, but two rational people like us know the truth behind the entire charade!"

Rosie's heart sank. She turned her back to Reaver and watched the rain hit the window. "You want me to make a solemn vow to be with you and you alone but you can't do the same for me?" she asked. If Reaver didn't know any better, he could have sworn Rosie was about to cry. Reaver didn't think Rosie was capable of forming tears. "You want me to stand in front of all my friends and promise myself to you, knowing full well that it's all a sham?"

Reaver said nothing. He wasn't making a very convincing argument for Rosie, but he wasn't one to give up. When Reaver wanted something, be it a thing or a person, he did everything he could until he had that thing or person in his grasp. "Think of all you'll be getting, my dear. You won't have to worry about anything ever again. Certainly not worrying about being left behind and forgotten, because you'll always have me. Well, at least until you grow old and withered and die. At which point, I shall have a nice funeral for you."

Something clicked inside Rosie's head. "This isn't about business, is it?" she asked, facing her boss again. Reaver only looked at her. "Mr. Hatch has always been there to keep your life in order and clean up the messes that were too big for the servants to get. Now, with him leaving and starting his own life, you're afraid the rest of us will leave. For over three hundred years, people have entered your life and left it just as quickly and I think you can't stand it anymore. You're afraid of being left all alone again."

"How dare you!" Reaver shouted. "Let's get a few things straight right now! This has nothing to do with love! Of all the people I have loved or ever will love, _YOU_ are certainly not one of them! You should be thankful that I'm even considering you for this arrangement! Do you think any man would or could get close enough to even feel the slightest crush on you?! You are a frightening woman who has the personality of a dead fish and that's being generous! You walk around here like death stalking its next victim and you leave bad tidings everywhere! If it weren't for the fact that you're the best looking out of the entire lot of you circus rejects and that you're the only one who can wash my sheets the way I like them, I would have fired you long ago! To think I could ever fall in love with a woman who's as stony as her heart is an inconceivable notion!"

Rosie glared at her boss. She no longer saw him as her boss. "You can't make me do anything I don't want to!" she growled. "I won't enter something where I know I'm not loved."

"Then how about this: if you don't agree to the terms of the contract and become my wife, you and the other circus rejects can find employment elsewhere!" Reaver shouted, pointing to the contract in Rosie's hands. "You have until the wedding to decide. Then we'll see who's really being selfish!" Reaver stomped out of the study, leaving Rosie stunned and lost for words.

The house grew silent again, save for the gongs of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Rosie clutched the contract tightly, as if coveting a great treasure. She didn't expect to receive an ultimatum, but she also knew she should have seen the truth. Rosie walked to the foyer and stood in front of the stairs. After an indefinite amount of time, Rosie walked upstairs and toward the servant's hallway. Her body felt cold and her mind had a million thoughts going through it.

She had a lot on her plate and for the first time in perhaps her entire life, Rosie didn't know what was going to happen. A single tear descended down Rosie's cheek as the candle on her night stand flickered an ominous light along the walls, silhouetting the confused Fortune Teller. Reaver had given her an ultimatum and it benefitted no one. Rosie reached into the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a small wooden box. She placed the contract down and opened the box. Inside sat reminders of another time and place, before she and the others came to work for Reaver. Reminders of the last time Rosie was given an ultimatum.

Constant reminders of the past and the choices Rosie and the others couldn't seem to escape.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**Before you ask; no, Rosie isn't losing her fortune telling abilities. As I've written before, her abilities fluctuate from helpful to not very much so.**

**Wow, what is going on here? More importantly, what is going to happen? Well, I have a bit of a treat for you all next chapter. Guess what? The next chapter is one big flashback! You finally get to find out what happened that faithful night the servants "left" the circus! Yes, I use that word loosely. Want to find out why? Well, you'll have to stay tuned!**

**How do you think Reaver truly feels? When it comes to him, who knows?**

**Only a few more chapters before the big day! I can't wait to write that chapter! It's been a long time coming, don't you think? Write me a review and let me know how I did and telling me what you think is going to happen. What will Rosie do?**

**So, you know the drill, dearies! Read, review, and be merry! Let me know what you think! I crave your reviews lol.**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	34. Circus Lights

_Reaver's Servants_

Circus Lights

When sitting in the chilly autumn night, one must remember to be adequately dressed. The wind was frightfully cold for autumn, but the wind didn't seem to be on the mind of the woman sitting by the lake. It was too cold to swim but not cold enough to go ice skating. The fall leaves that surrendered to the wind danced helplessly toward the water, landing on the calm lake surface and causing the soft ripples to echo one another like a soft yell.

Rosie sat on one of the cold stone steps leading to the dock, contemplating the events of the evening. In her lap was a wooden box with her name etched on the lid. One of the few things Rosie was able to save that fateful night she and the others left the circus. Rosie opened it for the hundredth time that night and stared at its contents. The box itself was younger than the treasures it contained.

The box's treasure was in no particular order, which seemed odd for such an orderly woman like Rosie. Some sepia toned pictures and some old crinkled up flyers seemed to be in abundance amongst the other small knit-knacks and memorabilia.

"_Come one, come all!_

_See Albion's Finest Acts under One Big Tent!_

_Come Get Your Fortune Told by Albion's Most Mysterious Seer! _

_Rosie the Fortune Teller Awaits to Tell Your Future! Good Fortune or Impending Doom? 10 Gold Coins Will Reveal All!"_

This poster, amongst the others Rosie kept, were often plastered all over whatever town the circus was going to a week ahead of time. Rosie often got tired of seeing them and often thought ten gold pieces was an insult. Her craft was still fuzzy back then, but since that time, Rosie had perfected it.

Sifting through the old pictures, Rosie found what she was looking for. This sepia toned picture was of the entire group (her, Miss Sarah, Gordon, Willa, and Beryl) standing outside a big circus tent. Rosie was debating whether or not to have it framed and give it to Miss Sarah as a wedding gift. The singed corner of the picture made Rosie give the idea a second thought. Rosie sifted through the various objects and papers until she found what she was looking for.

A memory in one object that seemed so innocent yet damning at the same time, this old box of matches meant more than one could figure. Rosie shook the box softly and her memory began to blur in front of her own eyes. One match was missing…

_**Two Years Earlier**_

The wagons had stopped for the first time in days. Everyone was cranky and the horses were in desperate need of rest. The circus troupe had stopped in a village a few miles from Bowerstone and was now setting up for what the Ringleader was calling their biggest show yet.

Of course, they had all heard that line before.

From the wagon windows, the troupe sharing this wagon could see Bowerstone. They decided to bide their time with leaving their respective wagons today. They weren't in much of a hurry. The other circus members were already out of their respective wagons and helping the road crew set up. Everyone had a duty and slacking off meant the show couldn't start on time, which meant the Ringleader (who also owned the circus itself) was losing precious money.

"Hey, get your lazy behinds up!" shouted one of the Ringleader's lackeys. "We need to get this dump set up before the evening crowd! We're sold out for the entire week we're here!" The lackey knocked loudly on each wagon and waited for a moment. As if rehearsed, each of the wagon doors in question opened up.

The big red wagon housed Olaf the Strongman and his daughter, Willa. Promoted as the strongest man in Albion, with muscles big enough so no one would dispute it, Olaf had to be gentle when opening the door to his wagon. Olaf slowly opened the door and crouched down to leave. His daughter, Willa, trailed behind him. Willa, despite being a teenager, was a very small young woman with the top of her head reaching just past her father's shoulder. Olaf had been training Willa since she was young to take his place when he retired. By the intensity of the training as of late, Willa believe it would be soon.

The blue wagon housed Beryl the Contortionist. Billed as "The Lady Pretzel", Beryl could bend her body at any angle. Because of her lifestyle as a contortionist, Beryl was very thin. However, she had very poor eyesight and wore thick glasses because of it. Beryl looked like she had just woken up, as her hair was a mess and her clothes weren't on right. Beryl ran her fingers through her long brown hair and used a hair band to put it in its usual high messy bun.

The yellow wagon housed Gordon, the Trapeze Artist and Acrobat. While the other acrobats shared a wagon, Gordon had his own. He inherited the leader position when his former master died a few months before and the position included the wagon. Gordon was a tall man with light brown hair and peach fuzz on his chin. He wasn't sure how he always had stubble, considering he shaved almost every day. Gordon stretched his arms out wide and stepped down the steps from his wagon.

The green wagon housed Miss Sarah, the Magician's Assistant. Though usually the assistant would bunk with the Head Magician, Miss Sarah haggled for the small wagon that the Ringleader just wanted to get rid of. It was no secret that Miss Sarah came from money and she had plenty of it when she arrived a few years earlier. The rumor was that she killed her parents and ran off with her half of the inheritance. Miss Sarah was quick to dispel those rumors, saying simply that, "I decided not to wait for them to die for my freedom." Everyone called her "Miss" Sarah out of respect (since she was older than the others) and because of how motherly she was.

The purple wagon with the weird yellow designs on it housed Rosie, the Fortune Teller. Rosie was an odd woman, which was saying something considering she worked for the circus. No one is sure when or how Rosie came to work for the circus. She had just always been there. The Ringleader often said that she "came in with the wind one day" and had been there before all the others. Rosie was a tall woman with long black hair and a gaze that would set damp wood on fire. While her abilities were sub-par at best at the time, Rosie was slowly getting the hang of her abilities. Rosie didn't talk about her past much, if she even talked at all. Most of the others avoided Rosie, except Miss Sarah who became almost immediate friends with Rosie when she arrived.

Olaf stretched his long arms wide and smiled happily at the sunny morning. "Stop with noise, we are up!" he shouted. Olaf had a strange foreign accent that Willa didn't seem to inherit. The Ringleader's lackey walked away, not wanting to test the Strongman's ire today. Olaf had been acting strange lately, but Willa didn't seem to be paying it much mind. To Willa, her father was infallible. He was the only family she had now, seeing as her mother died when Willa was very young.

Miss Sarah had taken the mantle of acting as mother to the others, whether they (or she) realized it or not. Miss Sarah looked sleepy, though the late nights she and her magician had been putting in with practice might have been to blame for that. Miss Sarah was the assistant to a man calling himself "The Great Mandelo", though she knew his real name was actually Ernie. "The Great Ernie" didn't look as good on posters as Mandelo. Of course Miss Sarah agreed to that. She certainly didn't want to be sawed in half by "The Great Ernie" and people wouldn't pay to see some guy named Ernie pull a rabbit out of his hat.

"Another lovely day, isn't it?" Miss Sarah yawned, stepping down from her wagon.

Olaf seemed to be the only one who heard her. "Yes, lovely day, Miss Sarah. It is indeed lovely day to make gold for pompous idiot in fancy hat." Olaf snarled and looked towards the big tent with the big wagon parked outside. Miss Sarah made a nervous smile while Willa gave her father a big hug. Olaf seemed to have a lot on his mind and whatever it was made him very angry. His temper would normally chill down when Willa hugged him. Olaf placed his massive hand on Willa's shoulder and smiled happily. "Wilhelmina, go help others with set-up. I have to fix wagon."

Willa hated being called by her full name. The others joined Willa and started towards the fairgrounds. Olaf's wagon didn't really have to be fixed, but it's the excuse he used so his daughter wouldn't see the sad look on his face. He watched forlornly as his daughter walked off with the others.

The circus was alive and well with life of all kinds. The clowns were getting their best outfits, wigs, and make-ups ready for the opening night performance. The venders were getting their wears ready for the opening night rush. The animal tamers were waking their animals up and getting ready for rehearsals. The small group made their way to the big tent, which was almost already up. Outside the big tent was the biggest wagon, which belonged to the Ringleader.

The sounds of hammers and one of the Ringleader's lackeys shouting orders could be heard from outside the tent. Gordon looked over and noticed something. Recently, the small group had been running a small betting pool. "So, who had 'popcorn stall' in the 'things going missing' pool?" Gordon asked. Beryl raised her hand slowly. The same hand caught the gold piece Gordon flicked to her. As the others handed Beryl their gold, Gordon stood in the place where the small popcorn stall used to be.

"I'm going to miss that old thing." Beryl mused, putting her newly acquired gold in her pocket.

"I won't miss having to help fix that thing when it breaks down." Gordon snorted. "You'd think with all the new-fangled garbage they push out every year, they'd make it to where you didn't have to fix it every two minutes." Gordon put his hands in his pockets and made his way into the tent.

It was no secret to the circus patrons that the Ringleader had something of a gambling problem. They've had to cancel shows in the past because of it. When bandits came looking for the money owed, it was the troupe's job to fight them off. It was not an easy task, but the bandits eventually left. It seemed that every town they stopped in, the Ringleader sniffed out the gambling den and somehow got himself deeper and deeper into debts. The real bet would be seeing how far the circus could go before the Ringleader couldn't run anymore.

This time seemed worse than the last time. They hadn't been in this new town for more than a day and things were already going missing. The troupe was sure the Ringleader wasn't even finished paying off the debts he owed from the last town. The last town had claimed two tents, a spare wagon wheel, and four clowns. Sadly, the Ringleader wasn't against betting his own acts. What happened to those clowns was probably best left unsaid. The troupe wondered who would be next.

By the time the troupe walked into the tent, most of the dirty work was already done. The only things left to set up were the audience seating and do their rehearsals. Tonight was a big night for the troupe, as it was to be Willa's debut. The Ringleader knew that someone as tiny as Willa lifting up weights bigger than she was with ease would bring in the crowds, so he made posters and had the clowns set them out all over the town and even in Bowerstone.

_Come one, come all!_

_See Albion's Finest Acts under One Tent!_

_See Olaf, the Strongest Man in Albion Perform feats of Strength and Vigor!_

…_And Introducing his Daughter, Willa! Can The Strength of Ten Men Really Come from Such a Small Package?_

_For Ten Gold Pieces You can Find Out! _

_Don't Miss Young Willa's Debut!_

If that night's show was sold out, as the Ringleader's Lackey had pronounced earlier, then there might have been hope for the circus yet. The troupe separated and went off to their respective corners to begin their rehearsals. Willa looked around and waited for her father. She never began her rehearsal routine without him. Rosie didn't have much of an act, seeing as she was a fortune teller. But her mysterious air made the Ringleader see some kind of potential and decided to book something around her. Beryl made her way to the clowns (the ones left) that assisted in her routine. Gordon and the other acrobats took to the high wires and Miss Sarah found her way to Mandelo's corner.

The Ringleader, having finally left his wagon, watched the rehearsals with an uninterested gaze from the main opening to the big tent. He'd seen this acts many times before and they didn't amaze him anymore. Being both Ringleader and owner of the circus was tough, but he liked the money that rolled in during each show. He had already gambled off half of the ticket sales. He held a slip of paper in one hand, which was crumpled up in anger under his twitchy fingers.

"Those five think they are some kind of special." The Ringleader's Lackey mumbled as he walked up to his boss. "They didn't help with the set-up and they're late for rehearsals."

The Ringleader nodded and kept his hands in his pockets. The Ringleader kept his eyes on the action going on around the ring. He pointed to Willa, who was lifting a giant weight with no trouble. "Short Round over there better be as good as her father says she is. I invested a lot of money into those new posters and I want to get my money's worth." The Ringleader grumbled.

"Boss, how deep are we?" The Lackey asked after a long silence. The Ringleader didn't respond, and the Lackey had his answer. "Boss, you promised after the incident with the bandits that you'd quit!"

"I had a good hand!" The Ringleader semi-shouted, trying not to alert the performers. "I know they cheated me! I was winning big and then he came out of nowhere with that flush! If I can make the money back by tonight, they won't come after us."

The Lackey sighed and shook his head. "Is that where the popcorn stall went?" he asked. "Along with your spare wagon wheel, two tents, and those clowns? If word got out to those soldiers roaming around here that you sold those clowns into slavery, the Queen will have your head!"

"The Queen is too busy signing papers and looking over royal decrees to worry about a bunch of missing circus freaks!" the Ringleader growled. "You think rebuilding after that horrible darkness descended on the land is an instant thing? Luckily it killed some collectors that were after me. The gods help me if that wasn't the only good thing about that horrible time."

The Lackey sighed and shook his head. "Well, you don't have utter darkness to blame your lack of funds on anymore, Boss. Whoever you owe money to isn't going to keep accepting payments in whatever you think won't be missed around here. Eventually, they are going to come for blood."

The Ringleader looked out amongst the rehearsals going on, just moving out of the way for Olaf as he made his way into the tent. Olaf stopped for a moment and gazed at the Ringleader. The paper crumbled in the Ringleader's hand seemed to interest Olaf the most. "Betting on races again, Boss?" Olaf asked. "Horses don't run as fast as you when bandits come for money, yes?" Olaf laughed and cracked his knuckles a bit. "Tonight is Wilhelmina's debut. You stay to watch?"

"I wouldn't miss it, Olaf. She's been preparing for tonight for a long time. I'm betting she'll bring in the crowds something fierce!" The Ringleader laughed. "I swear she's getting prettier by the day, Olaf. Hard to believe she's your daughter." He laughed.

Olaf laughed loudly. "Wilhelmina gets strength and stubbornness from Papa. Luckily, that all she get. She gets good looks from Mama." Olaf smiled proudly toward the direction Willa was rehearsing in. "I hope that maybe Wilhelmina find good man, strong man that can take care of her when I am gone. I hope tonight she catches eye of good boy."

When Olaf left their sight, the Ringleader and his lackey stared at each other. "If she doesn't hit some kind of growth spurt soon, no man in their right mind will even look at her." The Lackey whispered, sticking a tooth pick in his mouth. "You know boss; if tonight's profits go where I'm betting they're going you'll have more than just angry debt collectors to deal with. How long do you think you can go skimping these geeks on their pay? They may work for a circus, but they aren't stupid. How long can you keep this up before you can't pay them at all?"

The Ringleader held the piece of paper up but didn't read it. "I hope it doesn't come to it…" he muttered, walking away.

The day passed by almost instantly and soon the crowds were descending upon the circus. Under the big lights and the moon filled sky, citizens of the nearby village and even from Bowerstone came to see the feats of fancy advertised on every available building. Tickets had sold out almost instantly and the big top hadn't opened yet, but the excitement could be felt. People walked around outside and gawked at the attractions featured while eagerly awaiting the big show.

Clowns juggled and dancers entertained while games were played and a line formed outside a small purple tent. Rosie hadn't opened for business yet and already her head hurt. Her abilities were blurry at best and trying to overexert them made her head hurt. She'd been practicing her craft in secret, but meditation could only do so much for the headache. Rosie prepared her table and hung her charms along the tent to invite good fortune to her tonight. Something told her she'd need it.

Rosie opened a small box and cocked her eyebrow. Her crystal ball was gone. Though it was pretty useless as far as actually having a purpose in fortune telling, its presence gave the customers solace. Rosie knew things were going missing around the circus, but didn't actually expect personal items to go missing. Despite being useless, the crystal ball was still pretty valuable and she didn't need to be a fortune teller to know what happened to it.

Taking a deep breath, Rosie fixed her outfit up and waited by the flap of her tent. Her hooded dress had been mended many times in the past and the patchwork was pretty obvious now. Rosie slowly walked to the tent flap and opened it, welcoming her first customer. When the customer sat down, Rosie took out a deck of old tarot cards and placed them on the table. These had been a gift from an old teacher, the one that had discovered that she had the gift of foresight and taught her to use it (for the most part, anyway). They never left Rosie's person.

"You come to seek your future?" Rosie always asked. Rosie felt bad for these poor fools. To her, the worst thing in the world was to know what happens next. Rosie didn't wait for the customer to answer. She shuffled the deck and laid it down. "Shuffle the deck." She murmured. The customer did just that and handed it back to Rosie. Rosie placed three cards down and then turned them over. The customer shivered in his spot and waited for a response. Rosie made a tsking noise with her tongue and shook her head as she looked at the customer. "I see you will enjoy our show tonight, but if you want to live long enough to tell others about it, I wouldn't take the scenic path back to Bowerstone if I were you."

The customer, visibly terrified, paid his ten gold and left in a hurry. Rosie shook her head and shuffled her cards as the next customer sat down.

Inside the tent, the performers were getting their acts ready. The crowds started getting into their seats and chatted amongst themselves as music played in the darkened big top. The crowd was looking forward to the show planned. The troupe pulled back the flap from the opposite side of the tent and watched the crowds pour in. Each wearing their performance outfits and ready to get opening night over with, the troupe kept close vigil over the crowd.

Miss Sarah, wearing fishnet stockings with her skimpy assistant's outfit, sighed and waited for the other acts to show up. "Is it just me, or are there less clowns than before?" she asked.

No one answered. Gordon, wearing bright red tights with his oversized yellow shirt, folded his arms and sat on a nearby crate. Beryl, in her purple leotard, shivered at the sudden wind that came from the nearby forest. Willa's outfit matched her father's, it being a leopard print fur dress mean to symbolize strength somehow. The crowd seemed to murmur louder by the minute. Soon, each seat was occupied and the lights started to go down.

The Ringleader, in his tuxedo and hat, put on his gloves and made his way toward the tent. The troupe stood up, waiting for the usual opening night pep talk the Ringleader gave them. Tonight, he said nothing as he walked inside the big tent. The Great Mandelo, Olaf, and the other acts soon came toward the troupe. Miss Sarah put on her own top hat as her magician made his way toward her. Olaf hugged Willa tightly, softly wishing her luck. The acrobat team ran to Gordon, looking at their new leader with unsure charisma. The dance troupe clowns made their way to Beryl, their faces painted opposite of what they were feeling.

Rosie, who had closed her tent for the show, slowly made her way to the others. They could hear her coming, as the little metal charms sewn unto the bottom of her dress chimed as she walked. "Good luck out there, you guys." She murmured with a soft smile. The troupe nodded and ran inside the now darkened tent. Rosie sat on a crate, out of the way, to make room for the animal tamers and their charges.

The drum roll quieted the audience down and the spotlight was now on the Ringleader. "Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages! Welcome to the greatest show in Albion!" The Ringleader was met by thunderous applause. "The Grand Albion Circus welcomes you to see and discover the great talents the world over! Come one, come all, and experience flights and feats you've never seen and probably will not see again! I give you, the Great Albion Circus!"

Small fireworks went off near the rear of the tent as the acts of the evening piled in. Gordon led his acrobats in first, doing cartwheels with the clowns that led Beryl in. Olaf grabbed Willa and placed her on his shoulder as they waved to the adoring crowd. The Great Mandelo appeared in a puff of smoke in the middle of the three rings, as he was the first act after the opening introductions. The animals and the clowns circled the three rings as the other performers waved. The music was deafening and could be heard for miles. Despite each time they saw it, the troupe was always fascinated by opening night.

As the animals and the others left the tent to await their time to perform, the Ringleader took to the spotlight again. "They say he's not of our small world, and that he can traverse time itself. The laws of the land have no effect on our first performer. He comes from far, having studied under the greatest illusionists to bring you feats of wonderment and awe! The Great Mandelo as a treat for you, my lovely audience. But, there seems to be someone missing." The Ringleader basked in the soft laughter coming from the audience. "Mr. Mandelo, where is your lovely assistant?"

The Great Mandelo, with his fake confusion, only shrugged and looked around. A table stood next to him with only a hat on it. The hat wiggled a bit and soon started jumping around on the table. The Great Mandelo grabbed the hat and started shaking it. A leg with a fishnet stocking popped out. Then another, and soon a woman's torso came out as well. Mandelo shook harder and before he knew it, almost an entire woman came out. The hat seemed to be stuck. The two arms pulled the hat up a few times before it finally revealed Miss Sarah's big smiling face.

"Ahh! There she is! Ladies and gentleman, The Great Mandelo would like to introduce his lovely assistant, Sarah!" the Ringleader shouted, leaving the center rings as the crowd applauded.

The others watched outside. Miss Sarah was more competent than her magician. While the Great Mandelo fumbled with his act, Miss Sarah picked up the slack. They often wondered why she didn't just replace her magician if she was better at it then he was. The others watched the band get ready for the performance of the acrobats. They tuned their instruments and stayed in the dark, ready to play their music and perform their own type of magic.

The audience applauded as the Great Mandelo and Miss Sarah left the center rings, though no one was sure if they were just happy to see Mandelo quit embarrassing himself. "How can you forget the ring trick? It's the first thing you taught me when I became your assistant!" Miss Sarah asked, losing her patience. It was rare to see Miss Sarah mad; miffed maybe, but never mad. The Great Mandelo didn't answer, he just shamefully walked away.

"Why hasn't the Ringleader just fired him?" asked Beryl.

"Because seeing 'The Great Mandelo' on the poster brings in the crowds more than 'Sarah the Assistant'." said the Ringleader's Lackey, having made his presence known. The troupe didn't like this man, as he was always around when something bad was about to happen. He looked at Rosie, who glared at him with disgust. The Lackey looked away and put his hands in his pockets. "So, you guys know of any good poker games going on tonight? The boss thinks he's got a good streak going on." He laughed.

The troupe looked at the lackey with disapproving stares. "If he keeps betting all our earnings, he'll soon run out of stuff to bet!" Gordon shouted, obviously angry.

"Oh, don't you worry, Gordo; the boss has plenty of property to bet." The Lackey walked away, hands in his pockets. Everyone looked around in confusion. Their boss was up to no good, and things were starting to catch up. Now it was only a matter of time before the others knew how bad it actually was.

Willa wiggled around on the crate she was sitting on. Olaf stood nearby, as if guarding her. Olaf sighed and looked back at his daughter. "Don't fidget, Wilhelmina. It is almost time for your debut. If it go off without hitch and you soon become your own act."

Willa smiled. "Sorry Daddy; what he said made me nervous. Things have been pretty weird lately and not the normal type of circus weird." The others agreed with Willa, though not out loud. They knew such talk could get them in trouble and the last thing they all needed was trouble from their Ringleader. Olaf looked at the others, feeling exactly the way they looked. These people were more than just his circus mates; they were also his and Willa's closest friends. He felt if anything happened to him, they'd be around to take care of Willa.

Olaf sighed again, his own angst at the situation pretty prominent. "Don't worry, Wilhelmina. When you and your friends feel as if you are in danger, come get Papa. Papa will take care of it." Olaf laughed, trying not to make it sound forced. This reassured the others and Willa, who hopped down from her seat to finish getting ready. Olaf wished he could believe his own words.

The rest of the show went off without incident. Beryl's snake-like maneuvering kept the crowd on their toes as Gordon and his acrobats swung high above to the haunting melodies of the band. Willa's debut was met with widespread applause; no one wanted to believe such strength came from such a small woman. Rosie's fortune telling seemed oddly even more cryptic than usual, but it didn't stop people from lining up outside her tent just to hear of their fortunes.

Rosie counted her take as the last costumer left her tent for the night. Half of the gold would go to her and the other half would go to the Ringleader. That was the agreement made years ago when Rosie first joined the circus and it was paying off well. Rosie put her share in a bag and placed it in her special box. The simple wooden box had her name carved on the top and it was spacious enough to hold her personal treasures and knick-knacks. Mr. Finn, a man Rosie gave more time and attention to than he deserved, made it for her before his squad was station in Mourningwood two years before.

It wasn't that Rosie didn't appreciate Mr. Finn's gift. She adored it, actually. But Mr. Finn never seemed to stay in one place long enough for Rosie to know him. He was a soldier, it was to be expected. But she knew she'd never be cut out for the life of a military wife and shot down his last offer to leave with him. It wasn't even a marriage proposal, just an invitation to stay in Bowerstone while he went off and died wherever he saw fit. Rosie didn't like being thought of as a notch on someone's belt.

Closing the box, Rosie shook her head and sighed. Rosie made sure no one was looking and wrapped the box in a silk blanket. Rosie left her tent and closed it for the night, wanting to get back to her wagon as soon as possible. Using her still gathering abilities made her tired and sleep was looking pretty good. She decided to drop off the Ringleader's take in the morning and started for the patch of dirt where the wagons were parked.

Rosie stopped just as the wind picked up. It didn't feel like regular wind that precedes a light storm. It felt like a guiding motion, as if telling her to go a certain direction. The wind was insistent and blew harder whenever she tried to resist and go down the path to her wagon. Rosie felt if she fought any harder, the wind would blow her clothes off.

"Fine, fine…" Rosie muttered to the wind. She wandered toward the side of the big top, where the Ringleader's wagon sat. The wind stopped blowing as Rosie stepped closer. She heard the sounds of a small gathering inside and knew this wasn't good. Before she could take another step, a big hand grabbed her shoulder. Rosie spun around and saw Olaf, out of his costume and in his ill-fitting regular clothes. Olaf looked as if he had been standing there all night.

"Rosie, why are you still up?" He asked quietly. "If Boss finds you snooping around, he'll be mad. You get back to wagon." Olaf commanded. Rosie was probably one of the only people not intimidated by Olaf's strength. For that, Olaf had a lot of respect for Rosie.

"I was dropping off his share of my business." Rosie murmured. "And besides, you're out here, too."

Olaf nodded somberly. "I have reason to be out here. Boss called to me after Wilhelmina's act and told me to stand guard outside of his wagon. I have feeling he will need more than just my strength to keep him out of trouble tonight. I heard things, Rosie…" Olaf looked away from Rosie and folded his massive arms. "…Boss tells of hard times ahead, bit for whom he did not say. Rosie, make promise to me, _ja?_"

Rosie looked at him and nodded. "Anything, Olaf."

Olaf nodded. "Please, if anything were to happen to me, please take care of my Wilhelmina. She is strong girl but strength only in body. Her heart still young and I fear she would not be able to handle being alone just yet. She is like her mother: she puts up strong front but deep down; she knows it is only a matter of time. I hoped to find her a husband to take care of her, but time is not on my side. If I were to disappear tomorrow or the next day, promise me you and the others will care for her. Until her Papa finds her again…"

Rosie didn't have a chance to respond. Olaf heard his name being called and left Rosie standing there, somewhat taken back by Olaf's cryptic statement. Rosie watched Olaf walk toward the wagon door, as if he was presiding over his own funeral. He didn't look back at her. Olaf opened the door to the wagon and shut it slowly.

The lights around the circus shimmered softly as they blew in the wind. Little paper lanterns used to light the way for anyone looking for the circus danced in the wind, like little ballerinas in the night. In the distance, as Rosie left the area, she could hear cheering, laughing, and eventually the angered grunt of a familiar voice. Rosie told herself she had to get some sleep, as she and the others were scheduled to make an appearance in the nearby village to promote the circus the next morning.

On her way back, Rosie found Miss Sarah sitting on a crate near her wagon. She was staring at the sky, which was something Miss Sarah seemed to make a habit of. Miss Sarah looked behind and saw Rosie making her way toward her. "Sit with me, Rosie?" she asked softly.

Rosie shook her head. "Not tonight, Miss Sarah. I think I need some rest for tomorrow."

Miss Sarah smiled. "You've been getting headaches again, haven't you?" she asked, turning back to the sky. "I told you not to overexert yourself. I tell that to everyone, though no one wants to listen. I guess we all know what our own bodies are capable of. Maybe I'm too motherly. Probably to make up for the lack of it I got as a child." Miss Sarah sighed sadly and straightened herself on the crate. "When I was a girl, I always envisioned getting married and having a family of my own to dote on. My parents barely noticed me or my brother unless it was socially acceptable. I'm not sure what that means, but it's what I once heard our nanny say to a servant. I want to be a good wife to whomever I marry and I want to be a good mother to any children I have."

Rosie walked over to Miss Sarah and sat on the barrel next to her crate. Rosie looked at Miss Sarah and then at the sky. "I am getting better, Miss Sarah. Please let me tell you your future." Rosie pleaded, as if this was something she had personally wanted to do. "It's still blurry, but I know-"

Shaking her head, Miss Sarah hummed her refusal. "No thank you, Rosie. I appreciate you wanting to tell me my future, but I like to keep it a surprise. I'm glad your 'craft' is getting better, but to me the future is mine for the making. If I knew what was going to happen tomorrow, there would be no point in getting up. I want to embrace my future when it gets here. I want to be surprised and I want to be genuinely happy."

Rosie nodded and turned her attention to the paper lanterns strung across the wagons. Like dancers on a string, the lanterns fluttered about to their own tune. Miss Sarah hopped off her crate and nodded her good night to Rosie. Rosie nodded back, but didn't watch Miss Sarah leave for her wagon. Rosie wondered if Miss Sarah thought about the paper lanterns. Rosie wasn't quite sure why _she_ was thinking about them.

The next morning, it was hard to tell that anyone had gotten any sleep. Despite the sunshine and the warmth, clouds loomed over the circus grounds, a sign that a storm was coming. The fairgrounds were abuzz with citizens walking around, eating the disgusting overpriced fair food and wasting money on the obviously rigged games. Rosie's tent would be closed today, but she was going with Gordon, Willa, Beryl, and Miss Sarah to the nearby village. Willa was the only one not ready when the others walked up to her wagon.

"Come on, Willa. We need to head out to the village." Miss Sarah yawned, holding up a picnic basket. Her magician got the pleasure of sleeping in while she was going to be out promoting _him_ of all people. She didn't like the notion of being second fiddle to a hack, but Miss Sarah knew the audience saw who had the real talent. She got a small pleasure from that; and from the fact that she used her Magician's imported cheese to make sandwiches for a picnic lunch she made for herself and the others.

Beryl would also be without her dancers today, but she preferred to work alone. The dancers were really only in her act to keep time with the band and to make her look good, but sometimes they bumped into her little stage and knocked her off balance. "We have a long walk ahead of us, we need to get going." She murmured.

Rosie, with her hands in front and her hood on, looked around as if knowing what was taking Willa so long. Gordon was the first to talk up to Willa's wagon. "We didn't wake up extra early just so you can sleep in. We have to get going." Gordon shouted.

It was then Willa yanked her wagon door open and looked out feverishly. "Daddy is missing!" she shouted, running down the steps of her wagon.

Gordon looked around and then back at Willa. "Are you sure he didn't go for a drink with the others and fall asleep in the woods again?" he asked.

Willa looked somewhat insulted. "That happened once and he's branded for life." She muttered, looking under her wagon. "No, Daddy said he was called to the Ringleader's wagon to play bodyguard again. I knew those characters the boss met with after the show were a shifty bunch and I bet they hurt my dad somehow."

"I doubt a bunch of drunks can hurt your dad, Willa." Beryl mentioned, stepping into the wagon. The wagon itself looked innocent enough. Willa, like everyone else, kept anything that couldn't be replaced in a secret spot somewhere in the wagon.

Willa's "treasures" were hidden in a suitcase in a secret compartment Olaf built himself near one of the wheels. Beryl's secret stash of irreplaceable treasures was stuffed in the mattress in the built-in bed of her wagon. Miss Sarah kept everything she couldn't replace in her steamer trunk under her bed, which was too big to lift alone. Gordon didn't have much, but his stash of emergency money was in a busted panel just above his own built-in bed. Rosie kept her box of things under her wagon's floorboards.

"Daddy never came home! He promised he wouldn't go drinking again and he always keeps his promise!" she shouted. The others looked at each other and then back at Willa.

"Last night he said he was going to the village to pick up some supplies whole we were performing today. Maybe he went ahead of us." Gordon assumed while looking at the others. He felt he was convincing himself that was the answer.

Willa eventually conceded and joined the others. She stayed near Beryl as the group started to leave the fairgrounds. Despite the sunny weather and the happy faces of all the practicing acts, the air was tense and stifling like a funeral. The band could be heard from the big top practicing and the clowns were taking a break by the animal cages.

As the troupe walked toward the entrance, a shout caught their attention. "Hey, you guys!" shouted the kid at the photography booth. The photography booth was a new acquisition that brought in more money than one would deem proper. Of all the things the Ringleader was willing to part with to pay off debts, this was not one of them. It was a novelty item and patrons to the circus could have their picture taken for five gold pieces; the photograph later being mailed to them.

The troupe walked over. "How's kicks, Freddy?" asked Gordon, folding his arms.

"Could be better, but I finally got this damn thing working again!" The Photographer shouted happily. "I figured out a mixture that can have photographs ready in less than a day instead of an entire week! I have to keep the tent aired out constantly or it'll give me a head rush something fierce. But the mixture is useless unless this damn contraption is working properly. You guys mind helping me out?" he asked, kicking the machine in anger.

"What do you need us to do?" asked Gordon.

"Just stay still." The Photographer answered. The troupe stood perfectly still and waited for their signal. "Watch the birdy!" After a few seconds and a weird clicking noise, the group was met with a bright light and a loud mechanical sound. Temporarily blind, the group staggered about, holding onto each other. "Thanks! I'll send the picture by later after I develop it." The photographer pulled out the film roll carefully and stuck it in a nearby box. "Say, wasn't Olaf going with you guys?" he asked.

Willa looked like she was about to burst into tears. Miss Sarah shooed her along with the others while she walked up to The Photographer. "He wasn't in his wagon when we went to go fetch them this morning and Willa is a little worried that he got drunk and fell asleep in the woods again."

The Photographer just stared at Miss Sarah. "You mean he didn't go back last night?" The Photographer asked. "I saw him go to the Boss's wagon after he and Rosie were done talking last night and then I saw him leave with some shady looking fellows. I figured they got a little rough and the Boss had Olaf 'escort' them away, but the men weren't putting up a fight. Olaf seemed to be walking with them willingly. I figured he was going to show them to the entrance and get rid of them, but I was up for another hour fixing my machine and I didn't see Olaf for the rest of the night."

Miss Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "What kind of shady men?" she asked in a low whisper, clutching her picnic basket closer.

The Photographer looked around and made sure Willa was far away. He had a sudden look of realization on his face. He sighed and gave Miss Sarah a sad look. "Look, the wee one will have to know eventually, but for right now, just get her out of the fairgrounds until we know something for sure, alright? I know the types that the Boss had in his wagon last night. Those were no poker buddies, those were debt collectors." The Photographer watched Miss Sarah's confused look turn to shock. "I recognized one of them from a wanted poster a guard gave to me during our last show. He's a slaver, wanted by the crown for illegal slave trade. I think the Boss is in a bind and they won't accept popcorn machines and random knick-knacks from him anymore. He owes a lot of money to people you don't want to owe lunch to."

Miss Sarah tightened her grip on the basket handle. "I knew he was in bad, but bad enough to sell an entire human being?" she whispered, glancing over to make sure Willa wasn't listening. Willa was happily joking around with the others and her bad mood seemed to clear up.

"Where do you think those clowns went to? They didn't just 'quit', though I know they tried to. I was hoping the Boss wouldn't resort to it again, but I think I know why he wanted Willa's debut to be a hit. He needed to replace Olaf and fast." The Photographer looked over at the line forming near the sign of his booth. "Look, I have to get back to work. Don't tell Willa until something is definite." With that, the Photographer went to help the first customers.

Miss Sarah walked back to the others, not sure of what to say. The group left the fairgrounds and made their way down the path to the nearby village. Miss Sarah hoped that the distraction would get Willa in a better mood. Miss Sarah knew she couldn't hide this news from her, but she could delay it. "You know what I'm looking forward to?" Miss Sarah chimed in after a long silent walk. Rosie seemed to be the only one paying attention. "The fireworks on our last night, those are always fun."

For once, everyone seemed to be in agreement. The closing night fireworks always seemed to get the downed spirits up again. When the circus was done in a location, the Ringleader would always have the biggest, brightest fireworks fired into the air to signify a job well done to the acts and also the next leg on their journey through Albion. It was certainly a sight to behold and it never got old to some. Rosie had seen the closing night fireworks many times, though she always had a smile when it happened.

After the performance in the village, smiles seemed to return all around. Maybe it was the change of scenery or the happy villagers cheering just for them, but the troupe seemed happier now than they had been all morning. Willa in particular had a big smile on her face.

They stopped by a nearby lake to have lunch, which Miss Sarah spread out for them with careful haste. After lunch was eaten and Miss Sarah started packing everything in the basket, the others sat by the lake and looked around. "This is a nice place." Gordon yawned, fighting back the urge to take a nap. "I think if I ever leave that dump of a circus, I'll live out here. Where is 'here', anyway?"

Beryl picked up a rock and tossed it at the lake, making it skip. "Bower Lake, I think. You can see the stone dam from here." Beryl pointed to a small stone dam a few yards away. It wasn't an effective damn, but it kept a lot of water in Millfields. "Over there beyond the stone dam is Millfields, where all the nobles live. I hear that Reaver guy we keep seeing on those posters lives in one of those houses. Not sure which one, though." Beryl lifted her glasses and squinted, but it did nothing for her sight. They could only make out a few of the houses from where they sat.

Gordon grunted and lifted himself up from his laying position. "I think," he moaned as he got up. "…that I'd save up all my gold, eat only lettuce and beans for a year, and buy…" Gordon traced his index finger through the air and landed on a random house. It was the biggest house in Millfields, right on the lake with its own dock and a big gate. "…that house."

Willa laughed from her place on a big rock. "That big brick house with the ivy growing up the sides? I wonder who owns it. Would they be willing to sell it?"

"I bet a really happy noble family owns it." Beryl sighed, sitting against a tree.

"I've never seen a happy noble in my life." Rosie chimed in, leaning against the rock that Willa sat on.

"They do get happy, though not over things people would consider good." Miss Sarah said, making her way to the others with her picnic basket. "From my experience, all nobles get happy over is money and how much more they can have."

The others had a soft chuckle and looked out along the lake. "I hope whoever lives in that big house is grateful for the life they have and the limited time they have on this plain." Gordon sighed, sitting up all the way now. He stretched his arms out and stood up, wiping off his pants. He looked toward the edge of the lake, the setting sun reflected in the calm ripples of the lake. "We should probably be heading back now, girls. Can't keep the big tuna waiting."

After a few more laughs and soft playing around, the troupe made their way back up the path toward the fairgrounds. Willa was obviously in better spirits now. "Maybe Daddy will be back at the wagon. I bet that idiot boss of ours sent him on another errand. Maybe I can talk him into leaving the circus. I know he's saved up a nice big chunk of money, maybe we can build our own home by the lake!"

Everyone seemed to like that idea. The idea of leaving the circus, anyway. The idea had graced everyone's mind at least once or twice and the idea seemed to be permanently moored into their minds now. Willa giggled softly. "…and I'll hire Gordon as my butler!" she laughed. Everyone, except Gordon, laughed too.

"Hey! I'm no butler!" he shouted, somewhat offended. "If anything, I'll be a gardener." Gordon had always been good with plants. He had a small windowsill garden he was quite proud of that bloomed and gave his otherwise poorly painted and depressing wagon a nice splash of color. In between busy seasons, Gordon would cultivate plants and provide himself (and the others, to an extent) with fresh veggies. Gordon had always had a green thumb and when food went a little thin in the leaner years, everyone would benefit from it.

"And I'll hire Miss Sarah to be my cook!" Willa pointed to Miss Sarah, who only giggled with an appreciative smile. "Beryl, you and Rosie would be our maids!" Willa pointed to Beryl, who only laughed while Rosie maintained a bemused smile. "And every night after dinner, Daddy will sit in his big chair by the fireplace and smoke his pipe. Yes, that's what Daddy needs. He needs me to take care of him. He's getting old and I think the boss knows that. The other day, Daddy couldn't even lift the wagon by himself to fix the wheel! He needed my help!"

While the others just thought Willa was panicking over nothing, they still tried to smile. The group continued to joke around as they walked up the upcoming hill. Rosie stopped just short of the hill and looked around, as if someone had called her name. Something was wrong, but she didn't get a chance to warn her friends. Rosie heard Miss Sarah's loud gasp from the other side of the hill.

Down the hill, the circus wagons were in shambles. Gordon led the way as the troupe ran toward the fairgrounds. Each wagon was in a state of disarray, with doors hanging off hinges and windows broken just to name a few. The troupe ran toward the fairgrounds and found the other circus acts looking around in disbelief.

"What happened here?" Gordon shouted.

The Animal Trainer turned around sharply. "Oh thank goodness you guys are alright! We got worried!" she shouted. "The Boss sent all of us to different villages to hype up the circus, but when we came back, the entire fairground was in shambles!" Before Gordon could ask anything, the Animal Trainer went back to her crew to make sure the animals were alright.

Motioning for the others to stay close, Gordon slowly walked toward the area where he and the others kept their wagons. There was still panic going around and the shouts from the other performers could still be heard as they approached their wagons. Beryl gasped loudly, seeing her wagon's door lying by the stairs. The troupe disbanded and ran to their respective wagons, not sure of what they would find.

Miss Sarah ran into her wagon and found it almost completely empty. Everything that wasn't bolted down was gone. She opened every cabinet, every drawer, and ran her hand along every shelf. Pictures on the wall, her hobbe figurine collection, miscellaneous books, and even her clothes were gone. She was somewhat comforted to see her streamer trunk was still under her bed. Whoever ransacked her wagon must have assumed it was part of the bed.

Beryl's wagon was in complete disarray. Her clothes, her various collectables, her stored food, even her training equipment was gone. While she was relieved to see her secret stash of money was still in its hiding spot, she was dismayed to see all her costumes and equipment gone. Even her spare pair of glasses was missing, though the case was still there.

Rosie's wagon was completely empty, save for some old blankets and her hidden keepsake box. The only thing that wasn't taken that was out in the open was her tarot cards, though they were strewn all over the wagon in what looked like a scared frenzy.

Gordon's wagon looked about the same as the others: empty save for whatever whoever took his things didn't feel like carrying. His plants, his books, his clothes, even the puzzle he had been working on in his spare time was nowhere to be found and its respective box was missing too. Gordon leaned against his doorway and tried to shake his head, hoping this was all a bad dream. He ran from his empty wagon and met up with the others at Willa's wagon.

Willa didn't need to say anything. Her wagon was emptied out and her father was still missing. The others joined her and sat there, comforting each other. Miss Sarah was the first to look up and see their Ringleader standing near the entrance to the big top. Her worried expression turned into a frown at his obviously faked look of horrific surprise.

"Oh, you guys were hit too?" he asked, though not as sincere as he tried to be. "Bandits raided our fairgrounds. Took anything that wasn't bolted down and just made a run for it."

Gordon looked up toward the Ringleader's wagon. "Funny how they rob us blind but leave your wagon alone, don't you think? I'm sure you have much more valuable stuff in there then we had in ours. In fact, the safe is in your wagon. I'd bet my last gold piece that it's still in there, full of money. If the 'bandits' hadn't run off with my last gold piece, that is."

The Ringleader loosened his tie a bit and cleared his throat. "Well, you know bandits are a lazy lot. If they came from the woods, they would have seen your wagons first. And gone for whatever they could haul off with them."

"Doesn't explain how the other side of the big top was hit too. If the supposed bandits came from the woods." Rosie interjected. "I don't think we were hit by bandits. I think our stuff was sold off without our knowledge and the reason you had all the acts promoting in the nearby villages was so the debt collectors could take anything of value without any hassle. I think you've been orchestrating all the thefts of the missing items and the selling of all the extra stuff around here so you could pay off a sizable debt."

The Ringleader didn't look at the others. He didn't try to deny it, either. His eyes looked like they were trying to come up with an excuse. "We know you're the reason Olaf is missing!" Miss Sarah blurted out, not realizing that Willa was still next to her.

"Daddy's missing and he knows?!" Willa shouted, pointing to the Ringleader.

"Olaf is fine! He's just…working for someone else until things blow over." The Ringleader stammered.

"From what I heard, he didn't have much of a choice!" Miss Sarah shouted again. "You sold him off, you wretch!"

"You watch your tongue, Missy!" The Ringleader shouted. "You need to know your place around here!"

"I know my place around here! It's making that two-bit magician look good while he gets all the credit! For all I know, you probably sold that hack off too! Well, I won't give you the chance to sell me like a piece of livestock! I quit!" Miss Sarah shouted. The others agreed with her and yelled their disapproval too.

"Need I remind you peons that you're still under contract?" The Ringleader shouted over his employee's yells. "You quit here and you don't get one rusty pence from me!"

"You probably don't have it to give!" shouted Beryl.

The Ringleader had finally reached his point. "You idiots don't know what we're up against. It's not just me they are after, it's all of you. You are part of this circus, so if they can't collect from me, they will collect from you. If need be, they will collect _you_." The Ringleader had a feeling they knew what he was talking about.

As the Ringleader walked away, the troupe looked amongst themselves. This was a man who would literally sell a human being to pay off a debt. Gordon looked at the girls, know that any one of them could be next and he wouldn't be surprised if, after Miss Sarah's outburst, they were. He wouldn't blame Miss Sarah for that. The Ringleader was to blame.

"Daddy…" Willa whimpered, with Miss Sarah holding her close.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Willa. I didn't know if it was true or not. I guess it is. He didn't even try to deny it." Miss Sarah rubbed Willa's head and sighed softly. She looked at Gordon, as if he could read her mind. Gordon put his hands in his pockets and sighed softly at the chaos of the fairgrounds. Everyone was still running around trying to figure out what happened.

Rosie looked at the others, after a long eerie silence. "We're next." She muttered, as her eyes refocused. The others looked at her. "We're next, and he won't stop there."

Gordon sighed. "That's it, then." He whispered, though everyone could hear him. "There really isn't anything left tying us to this place."

Miss Sarah nodded and made her way toward her wagon. "You guys, in my wagon now. We don't have a lot of time. Willa, I'm going to need your help with something, if you don't mind, that is." Miss Sarah didn't wait for an answer, but Willa followed anyway. The others, knowing what was to come, followed Miss Sarah as well. They knew what she was going to say, and they knew of the actions that needed to be taken to ensure that this didn't happen ever again. Miss Sarah closed her wagon door tightly after everyone came in.

The night was slow to come, but it probably only seemed that way. The entire circus was in a panic and didn't notice Willa effortlessly dragging a steamer trunk up the hill and into the woods. She made sure to cover her tracks and ran to Miss Sarah for more guidance. Willa ran out to finish her final errand, as did the others. When the night finally came, Miss Sarah stood on the hill overlooking the fairgrounds.

Sighing with a heavy heart, Miss Sarah knew what was to happen. Her hands were on this as much as the others, if not more. But she had a duty, she believed, to protect the people she had begun to know as her family and if it meant drastic measures…

"…then so be it…" Miss Sarah murmured, finishing her own statement in her mind.

They packed only what they needed into a big steamer trunk. After their wagons had been ransacked, the group didn't have much left. Clothes, jewelry, even meaningless knick-knacks were taken and now being sold who-knows-where. Rosie's prediction had been right and her advice was well heeded. Anything that the troupe didn't want gone was hidden in the big steamer trunk in the woods.

Miss Sarah wasn't proud of her part in all this, but knew it had to be done. Olaf wasn't there to protect them, anymore. Miss Sarah brought her shawl closer and sighed as the wind died down. The drugged wine would be taking effect and soon the others would be done with their tasks. She hoped that the other circus members believed the news her friends were delivering. She realized she had been in a weird state of denial when it came to how badly in debt the circus was. Part of her was thinking it'd just be shut down, but she didn't think the Ringleader would go to such horrible measures to keep it open.

Selling Olaf like an animal was the final straw for Miss Sarah and Willa. While Rosie told Willa that she'd see her father again, Willa took little comfort in her words. Miss Sarah had always tried to see the sunnier side of things, but there was no sunny side to this. Gordon had a good point, about there being nothing left to tie them to this place. Miss Sarah stood still as the others walked up the hill. She started fashioning her shawl into a hood. "Is it done?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

Willa, still in tears about the news of her father, nodded. She was holding a small suitcase. "I warned anyone who would listen to me. I went back to my wagon to make sure my stuff hadn't been taken. They took all my clothes and the rest of Daddy's stuff, but they didn't find my treasures." Willa sadly opened the small suitcase and smiled at its contents. "My pictures from the photo booth and some of my mother's old things. Her favorite dress and her old costume jewelry, it's worthless but it means so much to me."

Beryl had only a small purse with her. "I had some money hidden away for emergencies. I guess this is as good a time as any to get it out. They didn't find parents' wedding bands, since I keep them in the same purse as my hidden money. They sold my clothes and my training equipment, though."

Gordon had a sack over his shoulder and a small barrel under his arm. "All that was left in my wagon was my old sheets and some of my spare costumes. I took a look in the other wagons after the drugged wine kicked in. Every wagon is empty; whatever wasn't nailed down was sold off. I stashed anything of value in this sack and hid it under my wagon before they ransacked it. Bandits in the area, my ass. I wish they could have come up with a better lie."

Rosie held up a wooden box with her name etched into the top. "Mr. Finn made this for me before he left for Mourningwood. I keep everything in here that can't be replaced. They won't be paying off any poker debts with my history. I made sure of that."

The steamer trunk belonged to Miss Sarah, so her things were already inside. Mostly cookbooks and needed supplies for their journey. Everyone put their respective items in the steamer trunk, including some pieces of old circus tents that Miss Sarah decided to use to make new clothes for the group. Gordon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "Are you sure this is the only way?" Gordon asked, looking at the girls.

Rosie nodded. Though she knew it was only a delay. She didn't tell the others that. They others watched Gordon uncork the barrel and pour a black dust onto the ground. He made a trail going to what the others knew as the fireworks wagon. They knew there was enough gunpowder and explosives in that wagon to ignite the entire circus and burn it to cinders. It was exactly what they were aiming for. After a few minutes, Gordon ran back toward the others and took one match out of the small box.

Miss Sarah pulled the others close as Gordon struck the match on his boot. He looked to Miss Sarah, as if asking her if she was sure. Part of him wanted Miss Sarah to stop him, but he knew he couldn't even if she said something. Miss Sarah closed her eyes and nodded.

It seemed like forever as the match fell onto the gunpowder trail and made its way to the fireworks wagon. Gordon motioned for everyone to stay back. If not for the horrifying destruction, the fireworks flying off in every direction and setting the tents and wagons ablaze would have been a welcoming sight. They used to look forward to the closing night fireworks but instead of marking a new leg on their journey, the fireworks symbolized purification. They watched for a moment and then started to leave when the big top finally burst into flames.

Gordon and Beryl carried the steamer trunk down the path. Miss Sarah lingered a bit until she found herself being pulled by Willa. Rosie stopped for a moment and looked behind at the crumbling circus, as if the spirits that guided her during her life wanted her to take one last look at their handy work.

The wind carried the flames well into the night, along with the panicked screams of anyone who didn't listen to Willa's warning as well as one last souvenir for Rosie. The wind carried a stray photograph from the burning photo booth and it landed in front of Rosie on the path. She picked it up and patted the burning corner. She smiled somberly and ran to catch up to the others. The path led to Bowerstone, but it might as well have been endless.

The first thing they did when arriving in Bowerstone (besides finding lodging at the Inn) was take a look at the bulletin board near the bridge. No job openings were listed, but something told Rosie that they needed to keep coming back here every week when new things were posted. They all stood in front of the bulletin board, in their clothes made from old circus tents and scraps of old costumes, and pondered the board weekly.

It would be a little while before the bulletin board held any fruit. "'To anyone interested'…" Miss Sarah started, tracing her finger along the new flyer. "'Reaver of Reaver Industries will be holding interviews for jobs in and around his home by Bower Lake'…"

_**In the Present**_

Rosie opened her eyes and looked in her box again. Its contents didn't seem to shift from their respective spots. Rosie sighed and tapped her fingers on the lid. "There you are!" shouted a voice coming from the main walkway. Rosie looked up and found Gordon approaching her. "Mr. Hatch sent me to find you! He's about to lock up the manor for the night so unless you want to sleep in the garden shed, you might want to come in now."

Closing the lid of her box, Rosie stood up and walked slowly to Gordon. Gordon knew Rosie well enough to know when something was bothering her. It was one of the only emotions she actually showed. He had seen that box many times too, and knew exactly what it meant. Gordon stopped before they walked into the manor. "Is something troubling you, Rosie?" Gordon asked.

Rosie kept her box close. "Gordon, what would you do if we ever had to leave Mr. Reaver's employment?" Rosie asked. Gordon cocked and eyebrow, his facial expression seemed to ask his question for him. "I sometimes wonder what I would do if it ever came down to leaving Lakeview Manor. I scolded you all tonight for being selfish about what will happen if Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch left, but I find myself asking the same questions you all asked."

Scratching his head, Gordon just stared at Rosie. "I don't think I know the answer to that any more than you do." Gordon answered. "Have you been thinking about leaving?"

Rosie shrugged. "I have a little money saved up; I might start traveling again if I do find myself leaving Mr. Reaver's employ." Rosie and Gordon walked back into the manor, closing and locking the door behind them. "Maybe, if it does happen, I'll buy a wagon from one of those Eco-Warriors in Driftwood and travel Albion. Make my way telling fortunes or healing or something to that nature. I do miss all the traveling we used to do in the circus."

Gordon swallowed hard. "You'd leave all of us just to travel? Won't you be afraid that you'd miss us?" he asked. "You know, we'd miss you. I know I'd miss you, Rosie." Gordon walked over to a potted plant and played with the flowers. He remembered setting these up earlier that day, so the flowers were fresh. He picked one out and handled it carefully. "The way you described what would happen if you left made it sound like you had already made up your mind."

"I have other options, even if they don't work to my favor." Rosie remarked. "I just have to know everyone will be alright if it came down to it. What if Mr. Reaver decides to fire all of us when Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah leave? He's just as unhappy about Mr. Hatch's job offer as the rest of us."

While he knew there was more on Rosie's mind, Gordon decided to tackle one problem first. "If something like that does happen, I really don't think we have anything to worry about. We've weathered worse and I know we can bounce back from anything. I mean, we survived almost being sold into slavery by our old ringleader; we can survive being fired by a pompous industrialist. There are other jobs out there and if we can survive working for Mr. Reaver, than we can do any dirty job that comes our way." Gordon's reassurance gave Rosie little comfort but it eased her troubled thoughts somewhat. Gordon cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. "I think as long as you're around, I can do anything." Gordon blushed, realizing what he just said.

Nodding softly, Rosie held her box close and smiled at Gordon. "Thank you, Gordon." Rosie said no more and started for the servant's hallway. Gordon, still holding the flower, smiled softly and twirled the flower in his fingers. After a while, he made his way toward the servant's hallway as well.

Rosie, with a skip in her step, made her way back to her room. Despite the events of the night, Rosie was happy. The wedding wasn't for a while, so she had time to think about the choices put in front of her. She had a big decision to make but decided that tonight wasn't the night for that.

One thing Rosie didn't count on, though, was her boss's efforts to sweeten the pot. She didn't realize how far Reaver would actually go to get what he wanted. But that wasn't one her mind. Rosie, after getting back to her room, put her keepsake box on the nightstand and sat back on her bed. Despite Gordon's reassuring, Rosie still had a choice to make.

Sitting back, Rosie picked up the contract and started flipping through it.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha my loves!<strong>

**I must apologize for this late update. I have a lot of people I need to apologize to, and you guys are first on my list. I've been working nonstop on my novel and I found a point I'm happy with to take a break from it so I could update my fics for you guys.**

**This is the year, my doves. This is the year, I've decided, that I'm going to finish my novel. Also, sadly, "Reaver's Servants" is going to end sometime this year. I know, I'm sad too. This was the first fic I uploaded onto fanfiction and it holds a special place in my heart. I just want to make it special when it ends, you know? Extra special for my extra special fans.**

**So, how did I do? I know, I'm naughty for not updating it soon, but let me know how I did! Give me some feedback; tell me how you feel about knowing the servants' past. Hurry! Don't let the moment pass you by! Review, review, REVIEW!**

**Haha, read, review, and be merry my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	35. Gifts That Keep Giving

_Reaver's Servants_

Gifts That Keep Giving

"Oh, how adorable!" shouted Miss Sarah as she opened up the gold wrapped box.

Lakeview Manor's dining room was almost filled to capacity with guests wandering around and gifts piling up next to the happy couple seated in the dining room. While Miss Sarah barely knew most of the people attending the bridal shower, she still appreciated the gifts nonetheless. Barry sat beside her, pretending to be impressed by the mountain of gifts that seemed to get bigger by the minute and extravagant by the second. Most of the people attending the shower were wives of a few of Reaver's business associates that the couple had only met at a few of Reaver's parties.

The dining room table had been scooted toward the far end of the dining room near the door to Reaver's hallway and the food for the party had been placed there. The servants, having finished serving the wine and setting the snacks on the dining table, took their places among the other guests.

"Before we begin, I want to thank all of you for such lovely gifts!" Miss Sarah gleamed happily as she opened the first gift.

Barry, pretending to be interested, nodded and glanced over at the nearby grandfather clock to check the time. In his opinion, bridal showers were for women and men were only there to help bring the gifts in. His only concern was whether or not his fiancé was happy and he was satisfied that Miss Sarah was beaming ear to ear. But at the current moment, Barry had other things on his mind. The wedding was in a few days and he was still in the middle of writing his vows. Reaver, who had already finished his best man speech, wasn't focused on the party at all.

Reaver's involvement with the overall wedding was minimal. Though he allowed the party (he was initially against it) and even allowed the wedding to be held at the front garden of his house, Reaver still took on airs as if he were the one getting married. Reaver had walked around the manor and the front garden shouting orders at decorators when Mrs. Hatch wasn't around, and undermined any ideas Miss Sarah or Barry had about their own wedding.

Along with pretending to care about his place in the wedding, Reaver oversaw the party's formation from the decorations, the placement of the chairs, and even had the servants take pour cheap wine into empty bottles of his finest wine. He may not have thought much of Barry and Miss Sarah getting married, but he still wanted to keep up appearances. He deduced any party held at his manor should still be a classy event the town talks about. At least until the classy stuff ended and the depraved debauchery could begin. That was Reaver's favorite part.

Though usually the life of any party, be it a royal gala, wedding shower, baby shower, or even a funeral, Reaver seemed to be concentrating on something. The servants were a bit surprised by this, wondering if their boss had come down with a cold. Reaver, dismissing the worries of his servants, sat in a chair on the far side of the dining room. His mind wasn't on the chattering of women or how he can somehow upstage all these gifts. If there was one thing Reaver was good at, it was making himself look better. Reaver had a gift in mind for Barry and Miss Sarah, but it was too big to be given at the bridal shower. But this idea had to take a back seat for the time being.

Like a hungry beast, Miss Sarah attacked the gift in front of her and tore it open almost immediately. All the women cooed at the fancy towels that Miss Sarah cautiously took out of the box. The towels looked soft and made from expensive material. "Barry, feel these towels! They are luxurious!" Miss Sarah fawned over the towels, rubbing them against her cheek with a smile. Barry, who thankfully decided not to wear gloves today, took one of the small rags from the set and pretended to be impressed by the feel.

Reaver could sense Barry's lack of enthusiasm for the gift and motioned for Willa to bring him a drink. Willa ran to the table and poured some punch into a small glass. She then ran to Reaver, who took a small flask of mystery alcohol from his jacket and poured a bit into the drink. Willa then ran to Barry and presented to him.

"Compliments of Mr. Reaver." Willa whispered, handing the drink to Barry.

Barry nodded appreciatively and started to take a sip when Miss Sarah's hand took the drink from him "Nothing to drink until we're done opening gifts; I don't want you spilling anything on any fine materials." Miss Sarah scolded, placing the drink on a nearby table. "Now, which one should we open next?"

Ignoring Reaver's soft laughing in the background, Miss Sarah picked a gift from the pile and looked at the tag. "That one is from us, Miss Sarah!" shouted Beryl, with Rosie and Willa joining her at the front of the crowd of women. "We put our money together and got you something both of you can enjoy!"

Miss Sarah nodded softly and opened the small gift. Inside the gift, packed under fancy papers, was a gift of questionable proportions. Miss Sarah blushed and lifted it up for all to see. The red lace nightgown was made from good material and left nothing to the imagination. Barry, trying to hide his blushing face, could hear the soft giggles of all the women directed at him. Miss Sarah, who seemed to like her gift, tried to show Barry, but couldn't get him to look at it.

"You should wear it tonight." said one of the women. "Give Mr. Hatch a little bit more…practice for the big night!" All the women shouted in agreement with raucous laughter.

"From that glowing smile and bow-legged walk Miss Sarah has in the mornings, I don't think Mr. Hatch _needs_ anymore practice." Willa whispered to Beryl and Rosie. Beryl giggled while Rosie tried not to show her amused face. Reaver heard them, even from his spot over by the entrance, and laughed loudly in agreement.

Over the loud laughter and dirty jokes aimed at Barry, the servants heard a soft knock at the foyer door. "Well, you are going to go get it, right?" Reaver asked, looking somewhat indifferent to all the excitement going on. "This may be a party for Miss Sarah, but you're still servants. Now, go see who it is and while you're at it, go bring up some more wine. These lushes drank all the cheap stuff I had you pour into the nicer wine bottles." Reaver uncrossed his legs and placed his left leg over the right.

Willa, Beryl, and Rosie left the dining room as the next gift was being opened. When they arrived in the foyer, Gordon was already at the front door signing for the package. Gordon had been in the garden, tending to some rose bushes that "accidently" fell from their planters that morning. The girls knew the truth, but from the tortured look on Barry's face, they didn't blame Gordon for not wanting to be anywhere near the party as it continued. Gordon tipped the delivery boy and closed the front door.

"A late arriving gift for Miss Sarah?" asked Willa.

Gordon looked at the tag on the finely wrapped gift and then at the gift itself. The box he recognized as one from a fancy boutique Mrs. Hatch usually shopped at. He had been forced by Reaver to accompany her on a few shopping trips recently. But the expensive looking box and where it came from wasn't what caught Gordon off guard. "It isn't for Miss Sarah." He murmured, looking at the tag to make sure he was seeing the name correctly. "This gift is for Rosie."

Rosie, somewhat surprised, walked up and took the box. "Did you order something from that boutique?" asked Beryl. "I've thumbed through the catalog Mrs. Hatch leaves in the study sometimes, but I didn't think you'd be interested in those outfits."

Rosie shook her head, though somewhat offended that Beryl didn't think she liked girlish things. "I can't afford anything from that boutique. Those dresses cost more than we make in a month." Rosie took the gift into the study and sat it on the table. Rosie looked at the gift tag and saw that it only said her name. "It doesn't say who it's from."

The girls giggled and watched the gift closely. "Rosie, someone sent you a gift!" Willa shouted happily. "I bet she has a secret admirer."

"Bad timing, though; it being the day of the bridal shower and all. Whoever sent it must not have a sense of promptness." Gordon mumbled, trying not to sound jealous. Gordon folded his arms, only glancing at the girls as they fawned over the package. "Besides it's probably from that buffoon, Ben Finn. Trying to worm his way back into her life, more than likely."

Though the sounds of the party were still audible from the study, the servants tried not to get distracted. Someone had sent Rosie a gift on the day they were supposed to be giving gifts to Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch. Rosie seemed a bit uneasy by the gift. "Well, open it!" Willa and Beryl shouted to Rosie.

Rosie took a deep breath and started untying the ribbon. When the silk ribbon came off, Rosie slowly lifted the lid, revealing packing paper with the boutique's logo on each one. Under the silky paper sat a dark burgundy dress, neatly folded and awaiting its new owner.

Lifting the dress gently, Rosie could see it was definitely crafted from fine materials and hand sewn, not like most clothes nowadays which utilized a machine of some kind. It was a floor-length matronly dress that still had an air of refinement and femininity to it. It looked tailor-made, for no one else but Rosie. The girls looked on in awe. Gordon looked inside the box and found there was more to this dress. He picked up a small envelope that said, _"To Rosie"_ in handwritten ink.

"Mr. Finn can't afford anything like this. Besides, he's not romantic at all. Remember that half-eaten box of chocolates he gave her one that one?" asked Willa. "He said he got hungry on the way to see her."

Not listening to the agreeing murmurs, Rosie refolded the dress and took the envelope as Gordon handed it to her. Rosie, whose glare demanded privacy from the others, was left alone with her gift and the envelope. She opened it slowly and sat down on a nearby chair.

"_To Rosie – I hope this sweetens the pot a bit. This is only a taste of what is to come."_

The letter wasn't signed, but Rosie knew exactly who it was from. She stuffed the letter into her apron pocket and put the lid back on the box. Rosie had no idea how she was going to sneak this past the party goers without them thinking it was a late gift for Miss Sarah. Rosie decided to keep this gift in the study until the party was over. She didn't want to arouse any suspicions. No one knew of the deal Reaver had offered her, but they did see his attempt to sweeten the deal.

It wasn't that Rosie wasn't appreciative of the gift. It was gorgeous, fancier than anything she had ever owned. But this wasn't the day for Rosie or her problems. It was a day for Miss Sarah and the party didn't need any unwarranted distractions. Rosie decided to bring the gift up to her room when the party was over. Rosie left the study just as Reaver was coming down the stairs. Rosie didn't acknowledge him, but she knew why he came downstairs.

"I heard we have received a package. Who was is for?" Reaver asked with his back turned to Rosie. Rosie stopped before her foot hit the first stair but didn't answer. He knew exactly who it was for and she didn't appreciate him playing dumb. Rosie glanced over her shoulder slightly and saw that Reaver had his back to her, pretending to look out one of the foyer windows. "Such a lovely autumn day for a stroll, wouldn't you say? That party has become so dull that I am in need of a distraction. Rosie, why don't you and I go for a walk while the weather is still nice, hmm?"

Rosie didn't respond. "I…I haven't finished my chores." She mumbled, trying to force herself up the stairs.

"Oh, those can wait, my dear. Why waste a day like this? When will there ever be a time when you actually have permission to slack off? If you want to change out of that maid uniform and wear something a little more casual, you have my permission." Reaver didn't take his eyes off the window, or more importantly, Rosie's reflection.

Rosie's heart began to pound. "I don't want to leave them undone. If I do, I'll never get back to them and I'll have to do them tomorrow. Maybe some other time, Sir." Rosie ran up the stairs as fast as she could, not giving her boss a chance for a rebuttal. Reaver turned on his heels and sighed softly. He wasn't a man to give up and he knew he'd soon have her where he wanted her. He knew the wedding date was coming fast and he knew she had to make a decision.

Reaver decided, despite his boredom, to rejoin the party just as Mrs. Hatch gave Miss Sarah her gift. The box was big and wrapped neatly with baby blue wrapping and had a yellow bow on the top. Reaver sat closer to the party, knowing Rosie would return. She did a few minutes later, holding a small gift wrapped in an unidentifiable paper. She stood away from Reaver.

"Oh, this gift looks so darling! I'm almost afraid to unwrap it!" Miss Sarah cooed, looking over at Barry. Barry's attention was on the box itself. He never questioned where his mother got her money from or why she spent it on nonsensical things.

Mrs. Hatch beamed with excitement as Miss Sarah carefully unwrapped the gift on her lap. "I always believed the best gifts are the ones you make yourself. I've been up for the last three nights carefully knitting these just for you two. I know they will be very useful to you two and don't fret about ever running out. I'm in the process of making more I hope to have them done in time for the wedding. Of course, if you want more after the wedding, I'd be more than happy to make more."

Miss Sarah carefully opened the lid of the box and cocked an eyebrow. Barry, as if expecting this, sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. Miss Sarah reached into the box and pulled out one of its many little contents. Miss Sarah held up a little knitted pair of booties and looked inside the box again. "Baby booties and…" she reached inside and took out a little hat. "…a baby bonnet?" she asked, placing the gifts on her lap as she pondered the remaining contents of the box.

"Just in case the wedding night was successful in fulfilling its intended purpose, my dear. You never know when little bundles arrive and it's always good to be prepared. And don't you fret, Sarah dear; Mother Hatch will be there every step of the way in case something _does_ happen." Mrs. Hatch replied with a big beaming smile.

While Miss Sarah's cheeks blushed with embarrassment, Barry's became red with rage. "Yeah, very subtle, Mother!" he shouted. Mrs. Hatch only chuckled as Miss Sarah took out the rest of the knitted baby clothes and set them aside. She nodded her thank you and tried not to cry from embarrassment.

_**That Evening**_

When the party finally came to a close and the guests were shooed off, the servants started cleaning up. Miss Sarah, after helping Barry take all the gifts to what was dubbed as "The War Room" by the wedding planners, sat in a chair near the door and sighed. She was exhausted and happy that the party was over. There was a strange feeling she couldn't shake through the entire party that there was more going on than some idle gossip and present swapping.

Miss Sarah leaned back and pondered all the gifts. Barry came up to her with a cup of what was left of the punch. "Some party." He murmured, acting as if he was actually paying attention during the party. "I'm surprised Master Reaver didn't get plastered and do his usual drunken song-and-dance routine. I must admit, that man can dance in a pair of heels better than any Can-Can girl I've ever seen." Barry sipped his own drink and noticed Miss Sarah glaring at him. "…not that, I frequent those things, Lovey…"

With a giggle, Miss Sarah leaned against Barry and pondered all the gifts. "Barry, where are we going to put all this stuff?" she asked, softly. "The wedding is in less than a week and we still don't have a permanent plan. All we have right now is mine and your rooms and both rooms are too small for all this stuff. Most of this stuff is for a home and we live here. What with your mother expecting grandchildren before we've even said 'I do', we barely have anywhere to call our own."

Barry smiled and put his arm around Miss Sarah. "Lovey, I was going to wait until it was appropriate, and now seems a good a time as ever." Barry stood up and took Miss Sarah's hand in his. "I thought about this the last couple of days and I think it's time we struck out on our own. Our life is beginning and it needs to start properly. Sarah, I talked to Geoffrey and I've accepted his job offer."

Miss Sarah blinked once and then a big smile traced across her face. She jumped up and hugged Barry tightly, jumping up and down with excited squeals. The thought of starting her life with Barry in any place other than a cramped room and being closer to her brother was certainly very appealing to her. Barry held Miss Sarah close and kissed the top of her head. "But Barry, where will we stay?" she asked, looking up at her fiancé inquisitively.

"Mother has generously invited us to stay with her until we find a permanent home. She was eavesdropping on my conversation with your brother and butted in just as I mentioned we'd need to find a home as soon as possible." Barry replied. He didn't like that idea, but there were two women he had to keep happy and keeping his mother happy was right up there with keeping his future wife happy. "Sarah, as long as you're next to me, we could live in a tent in the woods. It'll still feel like a castle to me as long as I have you."

A knock on the door stopped Miss Sarah and Barry from going any further. Rosie stood in the doorway with a half-hearted smile. "Mr. Hatch, may I speak to Miss Sarah alone?" she asked softly. It was obvious to them that Rosie had overheard everything. Barry nodded, kissed Miss Sarah on the cheek, and left the room to check on the other servants. Rosie closed the door and looked at Miss Sarah. "I guess my question has been answered." Rosie mumbled.

Before Miss Sarah could say something, Rosie stopped her. "I knew, Miss Sarah. I already knew. I wouldn't call it a prediction, but I think we all saw it coming. You and Mr. Hatch deserve to start your life out right, even if it means it's not here. We all have to do things to keep ourselves happy and safe. I know you and Mr. Hatch will be happy together. I want to tell you, but you still refuse to let me tell you your future. But I do have to agree that if one knew what was going to happen, there would be no point in going on. Which is why I think of my abilities as a curse more than a gift, you know. Miss Sarah, we want you to be happy, even if it means we have to travel all the way to the mountains to visit you."

Rosie handed Miss Sarah the wrapped gift. Miss Sarah noticed the wrapping paper was made from an old advertisement from their circus days. The gift itself was a sepia toned photograph from their last day at the circus. The silver frame Rosie placed it in covered the scorched edges. Miss Sarah whimpered a bit at the entire troupe standing together like a big family. Her tears of joy plopped onto the glass of the frame as she looked up at Rosie. As Miss Sarah threw her arms around Rosie, she knew she made the right choice when picking her Maid of Honor.

Rosie left Miss Sarah to sort through the gifts and went downstairs to where her package sat. Undisturbed on the table, the tell-tale box sat waiting for her. Rosie picked it up and hurried upstairs with it while the other servants were off cleaning elsewhere in the mansion. Rosie plopped the box down on her bed and sat next to it. She forced herself to open it but didn't realize her hand was reaching into her apron pocket to fetch the note.

The note, slightly crumpled, sat in her hand. It felt more like a warning than a gesture of generosity. Generosity was a word Reaver rarely used, especially around the servants. Rosie picked the dress and stood up, placing it over herself as she looked in the mirror. Rosie placed the dress down and started fumbling around her little vanity mirror. It took a few tries to get her long hair into the bun she was attempting, but she finally managed it.

The dress was beautiful, but Rosie felt out of place looking at it draped in front of her. She did like the dress, though. Her eyes became foggy as she flattened the dress against her stomach. Rosie did manage a small smile that she didn't seem to notice.

Lakeview Manor was quieting down for the night. But the sounds of shoes against the newly waxed floor kept Reaver from finishing his paperwork. His office was the only refuge from the events of the day and he found his paperwork lacking any type of excitement. He recognized the boot sounds as Barry making his final rounds before locking up the house. Barry had a way of walking that Reaver had gotten used to over the years.

A stack of resumes sat on the corner of the desk that Reaver hadn't bothered to look at since they were delivered two days before and a catalog for a boutique sat hidden under the factory paperwork. Reaver had been very busy as of late and had much to do with little time to do it. He shoved the paperwork aside and picked up the catalog again. Reaver, not a man to concede unless the fight was fruitless, flipped through the pages and sat back in his chair.

The study door opened softly, revealing Barry's head. "I'm about to head on to bed, Master. Is there anything you need before I do?" he asked.

"Hatch, which one of these dresses do you think looks best?" Reaver asked, holding up the catalog to a certain page.

Barry stared at the page and then looked up at his boss. "Blue really isn't your color, Master Reaver." He answered, dryly.

"It's not for me, you idiot." Reaver growled, taking the catalog back. "I'm looking for a specific gift for someone. I'm trying to seal the deal with a…shall we say, lady business partner and I want to show her I'm not a tasteless monster."

_Good luck with that,_ Barry thought, standing up straight. "Sarah likes shiny things. I've found most women like shiny things. Stuff they can show off to their friends over coffee or whatever the girl servants do on their night off. Stuff to put in their hair or wear around their necks or on their fingers. Shoes, I know women like shoes. Mother has at least three pairs of the same type of shoe in different colors. Clothing is pretty secondary when it comes to women, I think. Whatever makes their clothing look better is the gift you should buy along with the clothing."

"How do you know all this, Hatch?" Reaver asked, cocking his eyebrow and putting the catalog down.

Barry shrugged. "Mother used to make me help her with her seamstress work when I was a boy. Plus I learned a lot helping Sarah pick out dresses for the bridesmaids. Did you know there is more than one variant of the color white?" Barry cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. "White, off-white, eggshell, pearl, alabaster, snowflake…" Barry listed off the colors as he made his way to the office door. "Are you sure you don't need anything before I head on to bed?"

Reaver waved at Barry dismissively. "No, no, I'll be alright. Hatch, do me a favor though: if Miss Sarah decides to spend the night in your room again, please keep it down. I need my beauty sleep and let's face it, my good man; Miss Sarah is not a quiet woman." Reaver looked up from his catalog at Barry's blushing cheeks. "I don't know how much more punishment that bed of yours can take."

Barry hurried out of the office as Reaver laughed. His desk was scattered with work but he still had much more to do than the evidence on the desk would suggest. He had business to tend to and the date to close the deal was coming up fast.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my doves!<strong>

**This is a little filler I whipped up to tide you over until the next chapter. Lots of stuff going on, huh? The next chapter will probably be the funniest thing I have ever written. At least for a while, anyway. How much trouble can Reaver and the guys get into in one night of debauched drinking? Well, stay turned and find out!**

**So, I recently was accepted into the final beta for Elder Scrolls Online. My thoughts on that would take up too much of your valuable time, so I posted my thoughts on dA. Let me just say this: I absolutely LOVE the Elder Scrolls series. Anything Bethesda puts out I adore. But this…might not be their best work.**

**Want to know the rest? Read my journal on dA for the rest.**

**Here comes the fun part! Let me know how I did and leave me a lovely review. I appreciate all thoughts but let's keep it civil, okie? So, leave me some feedback and let's keep this ball rolling, okie?**

**Read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	36. A Night to Remember

_Reaver's Servants_

A Night to Remember

_How did it come to this?_ Barry thought, as he woke up from the most uncomfortable sleep he had ever had. Barry's headache intensified when he opened his eyes halfway and saw the morning sun glaring back at him. One more night of freedom, they called it. One more night before Barry was "sentenced" to a life of being a husband; a fate worse than death to some though Barry couldn't think of anything better than waking up next to Miss Sarah every morning.

Barry groaned softly and looked around. He had no idea where he was or how they got to such a high point, but Barry knew this wasn't good. He heard other familiar groans and looked behind him. Reaver, missing his hat and his vest buttoned wrong, got up as if rising from the dead. His outfit had lipstick marks all over it, as well as some smeared on his lips and cheek. "I say, that was the third best party I have ever been a part of. It ranks right after the time someone let a wild boar into the manor and tied truffles to my posterior." He moaned softly as he stretched.

Gordon, who was missing a shirt sleeve and wearing Reaver's goggles on his forehead, staggered himself awake and looked around. "Did we get away from those gypsies?" he mumbled, not sure if he was recounting a dream or not.

Beside Gordon, Elliot sat up and looked around. He had Reaver's hat on, though it was noticeably too big for him. "AHHHH! I'M BLIND!" Elliot shouted, scratching at the hat covering his eyes. Reaver, still barely awake, reached for his hat and took it off the screaming boy's head. Elliot relaxed a bit, only to feel Reaver smack him in the back of the head with his hat. Elliot chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head at the exact moment the sunlight peaked over a nearby structure.

A soft moan came from a few feet away. "Next time I see that Sam Guevenne guy…" murmured a soft deep voice from the other side of the incline. The others looked over and saw Geoffrey, sitting up straight and wiping drool off his face. "…I am going to shove that staff down his throat."

Each man covered their eyes and looked around. It was obviously early morning, though no one was sure what time. Reaver reached for his pocket watch, but seemed a bit dismayed when it wasn't in its usual spot in his vest pocket. He was also a little dismayed to find he wasn't wearing a vest. Reaver, ever resourceful, looked off into the horizon. "A trick I learned during my days on the high seas. My eyes are still a little hazy so I can't tell exactly what time it is by the positioning. Once they refocus, I'll tell you all the time."

Barry hacked up a little phlegm and spit it off the side of whatever they were on. His breath tasted of alcohol, though what kind he couldn't tell. It tasted like a mix of many types. "Alright, we need to at least find out where we are so we can get back to Lakeview without causing a stir."

Gordon, fixing his shirt so it sat straight, looked around. "I don't remember anything about last night. I just remember leaving the mansion and everything after that is a blur." Gordon started to stand up, but found that equilibrium was not his friend. "Then something about gypsies and…after that, it's a blur until right now."

A soft moaning came from the other side of Reaver. Reaver turned to look at his jacket, which had come off at some point, and watched it move around. Reaver's still somewhat drunken mind already assumed the worst. "My jacket is alive!" he shouted, reaching for his hip. It was at that point he remembered he left his precious Dragonstomper at home at the request of Mrs. Hatch.

Stirring nearby, the other party guests seemed to awaken. Smacking his lips, Logan sat up and rubbed his eyes as Reaver's jacket fell from his body. "If it pleases the court…" he mumbled, scratching his eyes. Logan looked around and then back at the group staring at him. "Oh, good it's just you lot. I dreamt I was being sued by a town full of chickens and I was defending myself. I was losing, too." He looked around and sat up a little more.

Reaver took his jacket back and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was cold on top of wherever it was they were. "Wherever we are, I hope there is an easy way down."

Logan, after wiping the rest of the sleep from his eyes, felt the area around him. He knew this place and nodded. "Yep! Just as I suspected." He mumbled. He knew something, but whatever it was, he seemed to be keeping it to himself for now.

"What happened last night?" Barry asked. Everyone except Logan looked at Barry and tried to think. "I remember Sarah telling me to have a good time and then after that, there was the bar…"

_The evening before had been uneventful. Barry wasn't looking forward to the party that Reaver had planned, but knew he had no choice in the matter. Reaver was the best man, and the one duty that Reaver looked forward to as best man was setting up the bachelor party. Barry only knew this meant trouble. He was dressed in a suit not unlike his uniform, except with a different jacket, and could hear the excited sounds of his awaiting party goers downstairs, waiting for him._

"_Will you girls be alright without us?" Barry asked._

_Miss Sarah, who had been helping Rosie fold laundry, just smiled. Willa and Beryl were present, though they weren't helping. Rosie had perched herself in Reaver's room to finish folding and hanging up his clothes and linens. Rosie had been distant lately, or more distant than usual. Rosie seemed to have something on her mind, but planning any type of party for Miss Sarah was not one of them. Mrs. Hatch, Barry discovered much to his horror, had taken over that._

"_We'll be fine, Barry." Miss Sarah chirped, taking another shirt out of the basket. "We don't have anything big planned for tonight. Just an evening with the ladies, is all. Mr. Reaver is anxious to get your stag party on the road, so don't keep him waiting."_

_The girls, save for Rosie, giggled. Barry was looking for any excuse not to go downstairs to his awaiting party. He had no idea what kind of night Reaver had planned but he knew it wouldn't end well. Barry still wasn't sure about his party, but he knew he didn't have much choice. "I just hate the thought of you ladies all alone in this big mansion without anyone to protect you."_

_The girls, including Rosie this time, laughed. Miss Sarah finished folding a shirt and smiled at her fiancé. The girls, finished with their task, left Reaver's room in single file. Their destination was the spare bedroom that everyone involved with the wedding called "The War Room". Mrs. Hatch was already inside, making some final preparations to Miss Sarah's dress behind a dressing screen. Miss Sarah kissed Barry on the cheek and stood in the middle of the room. "We're not completely helpless, Barry. You go and enjoy yourself." Miss Sarah watched as Rosie, Willa, and Beryl pushed Barry out of the room._

_Before Barry could protest, he felt himself being shoved out of the room. "And remember," shouted Beryl. "-you're not allowed to see the bride for an entire day before the wedding! That means when you guys get back from whatever deprived acts Mr. Reaver has planned: STAY OUT OF THE WAR ROOM!"_

_With that, Beryl slammed the door and locked it. Barry sighed and made his way downstairs. He could hear the excitement outside the main doorway. He wondered why they were more excited than he was. To Barry, a good evening consisted of getting his work done so he'd have more time with Miss Sarah. Reaver promised Barry earlier that this would be a night he never forgot. Barry was already trying._

_Barry desperately wanted to be happy. In less than forty-eight hours, he and Miss Sarah would be standing at an altar vowing their lives to each other. But he kept feeling a sinking feeling deep in his gut that didn't seem to go away. There was no full moon on this night, so he couldn't blame that for the unease he was feeling. Barry sighed, straightened himself up, and slowly opened the front door. In doing so, he felt a wave of noise makers and confetti hit him._

_Standing before him, tossing confetti and blowing noise makers were his groomsmen and his best man. Reaver (the best man) unenthusiastically blew into a noise maker as Elliot and Gordon (his groomsmen) tossed confetti into the air. Joining in the night of merriment was Geoffrey, Miss Sarah's older brother and a man Barry was happy to call his future brother-in-law. Geoffrey was mostly there on his sister's request, to make sure the party didn't get too rowdy._

_Standing behind the celebrating men, tall and ominous, was Logan (former king of Albion and Reaver's silent business partner). Barry had forgotten that Reaver invited him to the wedding. As always, Logan wore a loose scarf to cover his mouth. Logan didn't have a place in the wedding, but Logan always knew when to make himself useful. Tonight, his connections with his sister (the Queen) would secure a pretty decent party for the revelers._

"…_and finally, the wild groom emerges from its cave!" Reaver shouted, taking the noisemaker out of his mouth. "We have a tight schedule to keep, Hatch! Let's get a move on!"_

_Barry wasn't surprised that Reaver was more excited for the bachelor party than he was. "I don't anything showy, Master." Barry chirped as the group forced him toward the front gate. "Maybe a few pints and a round of poker and then back home to bed. Got a big day tomorrow!"_

_Reaver laughed loudly. "Oh please, Hatch! This isn't some high tea! The girls can sit around and eat bon-bons and gossip all they want, but this is your final night of freedom!"_

Barry leaned back, finding no support of any kind. He scratched his head and looked around again. "Well, I remember the evening starting off innocent enough." Barry noticed he was only wearing one glove and his jacket was missing.

"Innocent isn't what I'd call our night, but if you say so." Logan remarked, leaning against his knees. Barry still wasn't sure what Logan was actually doing with the bachelor party group. Barry had only seen Logan once in the past year and a half and his last visit was over as quickly as he got there. Barry realized Logan was the reason why Rosie didn't want to leave Reaver's room all day. Miss Sarah had told Barry the reason for this when they learned Logan would be attending both the wedding and his bachelor party. Barry was thankful that his fiancé was a good person, but a horrible gossip. Everyone had vices, and gossip was one of hers.

Elliot, rubbing his head, tried to get the ringing in his ears to stop. He wasn't sure what time it was but he was certain it was too early for whatever was happening right now. "I remember getting to the pub but most of what happened after that is a blur." He murmured, holding back a hiccup.

The tweeting birds perched nearby made Geoffrey's head hurt. His breath tasted like a mixture of alcohols stemming from wine to cheap ale and possibly even day old coffee. He wasn't sure where the coffee taste came from and he was positive he would have remembered stopping for coffee. At the present moment, however, he couldn't even remember drinking the wine.

"I remember…" Reaver snickered, placing his hand over his stomach. He felt a burp trying to rise from his gut but was disappointed when nothing came up. Reaver chuckled softly to himself, laying back on the incline once again. He still couldn't see too well and was surprised by this. "I remember very well…"

"_To my faithful assistant, Barry Hatch…" Reaver started, standing on the table with a bottle of wine in one hand. He held it up for the entire crowd to see, as if holding up a trophy. The bachelor party was a mixture of those men invited to the wedding and the usual pub patrons. Barry held his hand over his face, trying not to associate with the man standing on the table. "You have been my assistant for many years. You keep my finances, you keep the manor in check, and you throw out lingering party guests and late night companions." Reaver took a quick swig from the wine bottle. "If not for you, I'm sure my beautiful Lakeview Manor would have gone up in flames by now. And now, for some reason, a woman has decided that you'll do." He laughed and the crowd laughed with him._

_The crowd clapped along to Reaver's speech, though Barry wasn't paying attention. "When I first hired Hatch, he came into my office with a bruised cheek and a bandage on his neck. I asked him if he had gotten into a bar fight the night before and he told me, and this is the amusing part, that he recently 'retired' from a career as a light-weight boxer. His resume was impressive, to say the least. Extensive accounting experience and even lighting fast reflexes were listed as his strengths. I wanted to test that so when I hired him, I tossed a knife at him!"_

_Reaver took a swig of his wine and looked down at Barry. "But seriously, Hatch; you're marrying the best cook I've ever had. I have a good feeling Miss Sarah will make a fine wife. I'm sure you agree, considering those noises I hear from your room whenever she stays with you!"_

_The men guffawed loudly, though Geoffrey looked at his future brother-in-law with terrified shock from his place at the bar. Barry could feel Geoffrey's eyes on him and decided not to turn around. Reaver decided this was a good chance to continue. "I heard Willa tell Beryl the other day that Miss Sarah was walking funny. Beryl thought she had pulled a muscle but oh, how naïve that girl can be. You'd think with glasses that thick she'd be able to see what was right in front of her." Reaver finished up his wine and wiped his lips. "Hatch, you're a braver man than I. For what more treacherous journey is there than marriage?"_

_Most the men in the bar, even those men not associated with the party, raised their mugs in agreement. "Assuming you don't kill her on your wedding night from a head injury involving the headboard of a bed, I shudder to believe you and Miss Sarah will live a long, fruitful, and mind-numbingly lackluster life together."_

_Barry clapped his hands slowly as the raucous men around him applauded loudly. He was thankful Reaver kept his speech clean, if not somewhat insulting._

_At the bar, Geoffrey nursed his mug of ale as the wild music started. The "entertainment" for the night had arrived and now the bar was really starting to jump. Geoffrey could have sworn the seat beside him was empty a second before, but now it was occupied by a man in simple black clothes. The man looked unassuming, so Geoffrey didn't think much of him._

"_Your party seems to be getting off to a pretty good start." The man beside Geoffrey mumbled as he nursed a mug of ale that Geoffrey believed appeared out of nowhere. He already sounded drunk, but articulated as if he had just ordered his first mug. Geoffrey didn't recall seeing anyone come near them since he ordered his own drink. "It seems the groom is having a hard time getting into the spirit of things. He is aware of how a stag party is supposed to work, right?"_

"_He's a little nervous. He's marrying my sister in two days." said Geoffrey, twirling around in his chair and leaning against the bar._

_The man nodded. He held out his hand to shake Geoffrey's. "The name's Sam. Sam Guevenne." The man remarked as he and Geoffrey shook hands._

"_I'm Geoffrey. You live in Bowerstone?" Geoffrey asked._

_The man, Sam Guevenne, shook his head. "Oh no, I'm from…well, let's say I don't leave my comfort zone much and I'm here on business. I sell a nice little menagerie of services. But mostly I sell merriment to those who desperately need it. I decided it was time to branch out and see whether or not this land could use my special brand of joviality and mirth." He laughed, grabbing his mug and taking a long chug. Geoffrey could have sworn Sam's mug should have been empty by now, but it looked like it had been refilled just a moment ago with no barmaid in sight._

_Geoffrey looked over at the party and then back to his own mug. "He's just a little nervous about getting married to enjoy the party. His best man seems to be having a good time, though." Geoffrey pointed to Reaver, who was still on the table doing an obscene dance with one of the "entertainers" he had hired._

_Sam Guevenne laughed and took another long sip from his mug. "Maybe when I'm not here on business I'll come back and party with him. But it seems I was right in thinking my services were needed." Sam Guevenne reached into a bag that Geoffrey could have sworn wasn't there before and pulled out a green bottle with writing he didn't recognize on the label. "My 'underlings' thought I was crazy for venturing so far from home and they didn't believe me when I told them it'd be worth it. Call me a scout, of sorts."_

_Geoffrey had no idea what this guy was talking about. At that moment, Reaver and Barry came toward the bar, Reaver pushing Barry. "Did you like my speech, Geoffrey?" Reaver asked, pushing Barry to sit on the stool next to Geoffrey. Reaver looked over at the man calling himself Sam Guevenne and frowned. "I don't recall inviting you." He murmured, keeping his hands on Barry's shoulders to keep him from moving._

_With a chuckle, Sam Guevenne looked directly at Reaver with a drunken, yet aware, smile. "You didn't invite most of the people here, either." Sam Guevenne laughed. "I never miss a party, especially a stag party that has great potential. The name's Sam Guevenne and I am a merchant of merriment. You don't look like a guy who wants any stupid trinket. No, when you make a wager, you want it to be worth your while. How's about a little contest for a staff of untold power?"_

_Reaver winked at Sam Guevenne. "A 'staff' you say? What kind of untold power does this 'staff' of yours have?" he chuckled. Reaver bit the gloved tips of his fingers and smiled._

"_I see this land is not short on innuendo. Check that off the list." Sam Guevenne murmured. "How about your bachelor here against me in a drinking contest, what do you say?"_

_Before Barry could agree or disagree, Reaver slammed his hand on the bar counter. "Now we're talking! But I'll have you know Hatch can hold his liquor better than anyone I know, myself excluded. Hatch drinks like a fish, even if he thinks I don't know." Reaver laughed. Barry, despite the truth in his boss's statement, tried to deny it. "Of course, he's a very bad drunk. Last time we had a drinking contest, he woke up in my office in the arms of his future wife and with a house plant on him." Reaver, his arm around Barry's shoulder, finally felt this party was about to get started. "What's the poison?"_

_By this time, the bachelor party had steered its way to the bar. "A special concoction of my own design, known to knock a man off his feet in no time flat. I've been drinking it for years so I've grown a tolerance to it, but I'd like to see how the Man of Honor does."_

_Barry gulped loudly as the odd colored liquid swirled around in his mug as it was poured. This pub, 'The Cock in the Crown' had a bartender who never allowed outside drinks in. Barry wondered why the bartender hadn't said anything yet. Barry once saw the bartender throw a man out by his pants for bringing in a cup of water. The more Barry thought about it, the more he noticed the bartender was actually nowhere to be found. He didn't have time to think about that as the crowd formed._

"_I don't know about this…" Barry murmured, holding his mug up._

"_Don't be such a downer at your own party, Barry!" shouted Elliot, finally making his way through the crowd. He was noticeably shorter than most of the partygoers and had a hard time keeping up. "If you wanted to sit around and gossip while talking about shoes and eating bon-bons, we would have left you with the women!"_

_The crowd laughed. Barry puffed up his chest and nodded, putting on a more determined face. "Alright! Let's get this contest started!"_

_Amongst the cheering of the rowdy crowd, Sam Guevenne took the first long gulp and refilled his cup. "Ahh, now that's refreshing. Your turn…"_

_Barry sniffed the drink a little and took small sips. "Get into the spirit of things, Hatch!" shouted Reaver, smacking Barry's back. Barry gulped his entire mouthful down while trying not to choke. The drink was surprisingly tasty, unlike any he had ever had. Barry decided to ask this Same Guevenne guy for a few bottles of it to take back to Miss Sarah after the party was over._

Gordon coughed a little to clear his throat. "Why does my mouth taste like grass?" he asked, still sputtering. Gordon didn't receive an answer, nor was he actually expecting one. The others just stared at each other, trying to figure out what had happened.

"I remember the drinking contest." Elliot murmured softly. "You sure were packing them away, Barry. I don't know what kind of liquor that was. It smelled weird and I didn't see a vintage number on the bottle. I'm pretty sure he drugged us or something, but I don't see why he would. Nothing of value is missing, right?"

Each man, at that moment, felt their pockets and looked around. "I still have all my money." said Gordon. The others murmured their agreements and went back to thinking. "Well, he didn't rob us. Anything missing was probably lost in the merriment. Gordon looked at his wrist, and then remembered that he didn't own a watch. He leaned back and looked up at the sky. The clouds overhead looked like cotton balls, which meant despite the night the day was going to be pretty nice.

"First things first: we figure out where we are and how we got here." said Geoffrey, trying to regain his balance. Standing was obviously not going to work for him, so he stayed in his sitting position. "Does anyone remember what happened after the contest?"

Looking at each other and shrugging, the men felt themselves return to square one. "I don't know what we did last night, but I'm guessing Sarah is going to be right sore at me." Barry mumbled, falling backward onto the incline. The surface was hard and felt like clay planks. "I bet her night was easy: eating bon-bons, gossiping, talking about shoes, drinking some frilly wine."

"Women are easy to please when you know how to do it. But not to worry, Hatch. I don't believe we went anywhere near Lakeview Manor last night after we left it." Reaver's reassurance didn't help Barry feel better, but it was doing wonders for the others. "Besides, you can't see her until the wedding. Tradition and all that nonsense; you know those girls wouldn't let you within a mile of Lakeview Manor while Miss Sarah is in it. I was planning on letting you stay in the garden shed, but oh no, you don't want to sleep on bags of fertilizer and sod the night before your wedding."

"Well pardon me for not wanting to smell like a barn on my wedding day!" Barry protested, though he didn't look up or face Reaver. They were all too hung over for there to be any repercussions for Barry yelling at his boss, and even so, Reaver didn't have his gun.

Logan had been silent for some time. He scratched his chin and looked toward the partygoers again. "Speaking of barns, does anyone remember what we did with that goat?" he asked.

_Holding a bottle of Sam Guevenne's wine in one hand, Reaver shushed his fellow partygoers as they snuck onto the farm. How they got to this farm at this time of night was unknown, but they were positive what was about to happen was going to be the greatest thing ever._

_After the contest, a very generous Sam Guevenne gave Barry and the others a few bottles of his concoction as a wedding gift. No one knew where he had gone after that. When a drunken Barry turned around to thank him for the contest and the booze, Sam Guevenne was gone. After the bartender through Barry and his party out of the tavern, Barry decided not to worry about it. He was too drunk and feeling unusually happy to worry about something as insignificant as a missing person._

"_Shut up! You'll wake the farmer!" laughed Elliot, taking a long swig from his bottle. "You'll…you'll wake him and then we'll have to share our booze…" he hiccupped._

"_He can find Sam Guevenne and…" Gordon slurred, putting his bottle down on a barrel for a moment. "…and get his own. He's a far…he's a far…oh man…" Gordon leaned against a nearby tree. "I'm dizzy…"_

"_I'm Logan…" Logan chuckled softly while nursing the booze from his bottle. "You know, I feel good…" he murmured. "I feel very good. Good. Gooooooooood." Logan put his fingers to his lips and felt himself sound out the word slowly. "I like that word. It's a nice word…"_

_Barry shushed them loudly. "I can't…" he hiccupped softly. "…I can't concentrate you with guys…umm…making words come from your mouths." Barry found the goat and opened the pen slowly. Barry snuck up to the goat and patted its head softly. "Hello little goat. You're my friend…" he murmured. Barry led the goat out of the pen toward the revelers. The goat in question was actually a young kid with a bell around its neck. It looked just old enough to be away from its mother. "I bet you're thirsty, aren't you, little goat?" Barry asked._

_Gordon, still leaning against the tree, didn't notice Barry grab his bottle from its place on the barrel. The revelers watched as Barry bottle fed the goat some of their mysterious booze. The goat seemed to take a liking to it and lapped it up fast._

"_Now, now; leave some for Gordon!" Reaver slurred, taking the bottle back. He had his bottle in one hand and Gordon's in the other. He took a long swig from both at the same time. The bottles were odd, as no matter how empty they felt, there was still plenty of booze inside. Not that anyone noticed or cared at this point._

_At that time, the door to the farmer's house swung open. "Who's there?!" shouted a very irate farmer holding a rifle high. "Who's snooping around my farm at this time of night?! I swear I'll blast a hole in you the size a wagon wheel if you don't get off my property!"_

_Grabbing their drinks, and the goat, the revelers ran as fast as they could down the path. Gunshots filled the air, though no one was hurt._

"Goat?" asked Barry. "Oh, don't tell me we did something with a goat!" Barry's whining was giving Reaver a headache, though he said nothing. Barry suddenly started to remember. This made him feel even worse about the night's events. "We kidnapped someone's goat and now we don't know where it is!"

Reaver chuckled. "Kid-napped. Good one, Hatch." He laughed softly. Reaver rubbed his eyes a little and smiled jovially. "Ahh, I can see again." He murmured, standing up with a wobble. He narrowed his eyes and put his hand over them to block out the sun.

While Reaver was doing that, Elliot took a long look at his left boot. "I guess that explains why there is a hole in the tip of my boot." He mumbled. "Our goat must have gotten hungry." He pointed to the tip of his boot and wiggled his visible big toe. Elliot seemed pretty amused by this toe and wiggled it some more. There was no doubt he was the youngest of the group. When he saw the annoyed looks on the other men's faces, he dropped his foot slowly and straightened his hair.

Geoffrey put his hand on his stomach and felt it growl. "Well, we had plenty to drink last night, but I don't think we had anything to eat. I'm starving!"

The others, except Reaver, nodded in agreement. "My mouth tastes like grass. Maybe we attempted to eat some kind of vegetation last night. I vaguely remember chewing on a leaf…"

_Gordon, slumped over a rock, giggled happily while watching their newly acquired goat eat leaves from a nearby bush. He licked his lips and watched the goat intensely. He was so entranced by the movements of the goat that he ignored the crisis at hand._

"_Alright…" murmured Barry, reaching for his bottle that was resting on a nearby fence post. "…let's not panic. I'm sure we can just…" he teetered for a bit, trying to stand up straight. Geoffrey just looked up from his spot on the ground and said nothing._

_Reaver, sitting against the fence a little ways away, wasn't listening to Barry's whining. He stared wide-eyed at the crescent moon above them. "Am I a likeable person?" he asked, not directing the question at anyone in particular. "I like to think I am. I have good taste, I'm fabulously rich, and women and men alike adore me! I own the biggest house in Millfields, for crying out loud!" Reaver played with his bottle and peeked inside the top with one eye closed. "There should be no reason for her to be so cold to me! I'm a good boss!"_

"_What makes you think you're not?" asked Logan, spinning his bottle on the ground._

"_Nothing!" Reaver shouted, though not directing it at Logan. "I'm a great boss! I haven't shot any of them once!"_

_Logan only nodded. "You actually like having them around, don't you?" he asked as his bottle stopped. Logan spun it again. "Those 'Circus Rejects' give your otherwise debauched life a little more meaning. You actually care for them and it's terrifying you!" Logan, still somewhat drunk, spun his bottle again before it stopped._

_Reaver sputtered his disapproving laugh as leaves fell from a tree nearby. They both looked up and saw Elliot on a branch, reaching for the moon. At some point, he had begun to wear Reaver's hat because it was now resting somewhat off balanced on his head. "Almost…" he grunted, trying to hold onto the branch and his drink with the same hand. Elliot slipped and fell into the bushes behind the tree and fence. Barry looked up from his nervous breakdown and wobbled over to the bushes. He didn't get a chance to ask Elliot if he was alright because he couldn't form the words._

_Nibbling on a leaf, Gordon looked up at the commotion. He chewed the leaf in time with the goat. Gordon spit the leaf out and stood up. He wobbled over to the group and smiled. "You weren't high enough." He sputtered, still spitting out pieces of leaf. "We need to get…" he burped softly and continued. "…we need to get higher. That moon is a high prize…"_

_Elliot smiled. "I know…I know where we can go…" he slurred as the goat meandered toward them. "We'll go to the castle! Yes, then we'll get high enough and that pesky moon won't bother anyone anymore!"_

"_That is the smartest thing I've heard all night!" Logan shouted, his bottle still spinning. "I know a way in that hasn't been used in years!" Logan stood up but balanced against the fence. "Follow me, and I will take us to this place I just spoke of." He leaned against the post, fighting the urge to vomit._

_As the others crowded around Logan, his bottle finally stopped. It pointed at Reaver. Reaver smiled, puckered up, and gave Logan the biggest, wettest kiss he had ever given._

The three men looked at each other and then at the incline they were on. It was a roof. A very high roof on a very important building. Reaver turned back to the group and nodded. "By the sun, I'd say it's about seven in the morning and we're on the roof of Bowerstone Castle." Reaver carefully stepped toward the others and placed his hands on his hips. "Well, it's not the weirdest place I've ever woken up after a night of drinking, but it's ranked pretty high on the list."

The others ignored that last statement. Barry stood up and sighed. He turned away from the others and shook his head. They were sure he was upset. They saw his shoulders move up and down and then saw him turn around with a big smile on his face. He then started laughing.

"That…" he laughed loudly. "…has got to be the most fun I've had since I began working for Reaver!" he laughed. Soon, the others joined him. "Who would have guessed we'd end up on top of the castle after a night of drinking? I don't know what was in that booze, but I have got to find the guy that gave it to us so I can get some more!"

"I knew you'd eventually get into the spirit of things, Hatch!" Reaver laughed, putting his arm around Barry's shoulder. "Now aren't you happy you didn't spend the evening eating bon-bons, talking about shoes, gossiping, drinking frilly wines, and just generally being bored to death with the girls?" Reaver laughed his question.

Before Barry could answer, the group heard very angry yelling coming from the ground below. They were almost afraid to look over the side to see who was yelling. They did anyway, all at the same time. They saw a handful of servants, the Royal Guard, and Queen Robin all standing in the garden, looking up with angry faces. The garden was a mess and several plants were destroyed. The goat from the night before was with a guard, who was holding onto it.

"I hope you lot have a good explanation for this!" shouted Queen Robin, her hands on her hips. "I have a mind to throw you all in the dungeon but I'd rather not waste the space! Come down here right now and claim any items you don't want thrown out before I lose what's left of my patience!" Queen Robin then noticed the goat had gotten loose from the guard and meandered over to her. The goat started to nibble on a piece of her dress. "AND TAKE THIS DAMN GOAT AWAY FROM HERE BEFORE IT EATS MY ENTIRE GARDEN!"

The group found their way down from the castle roof and was met by a guard and the Queen. She glared at Elliot and Logan in particular. "When you said you two were going to a get-together for a friend, I almost laughed. You two rarely get along but now I see why you two have been so chummy lately. A stag party was it?" the Queen asked. "I don't know how this night began, and frankly I don't want to know. I'm inclined to believe this is somehow Reaver's fault and I will be sending him the bill for any damages done to my garden."

Reaver began to protest, but stopped when the Queen glared at him. The Queen was a small woman, but she knew how to get her point across. She sighed and folded her arms, relaxing a bit. "But, I suppose I should be a bit more pleasant considering the circumstances. A stag party is supposed to be a man's last night of freedom, but that doesn't excuse you from the damages done. The liquor bottles strewn all over my garden, plus the clothes I found in the fountain suggest it was a particularly good party."

The men did remember taking a quick swim in the fountain but didn't bother themselves with details. The men just smiled to one another and then to the Queen.

Queen Robin shook her head. "Head inside and have some breakfast, all of you. After that, leave and never come back here unless I summon you." The Queen had the guard escort the group inside. She turned around and saw the goat eating a piece of paper. Queen Robin walked over and took the paper from the goat. It seemed to be a note of some kind.

"'Had a great time, sorry I had to leave. Business, you know. I can't wait to tell my underlings of this shindig. They won't believe it. I should come to your little corner of the universe more often. Tell Reaver I'll definitely be back for a party again and I'll actually bring the staff next time. Wish Mr. Hatch my best and tell me all about what happened after you got kicked out. Yours, Sam Guevenne.' What in all of Albion?" Queen Robin murmured, crumbling up the paper.

The men walked inside, unsure of if any of their memories would prove correct. The rest of the night was still a blur to them. Though, in the corner of his mind, Barry was content. He was happy that he had this last night of craziness and got it out of his system. Soon, he'd be marrying a woman who he knew would refuse to put up with such foolishness and Barry knew it was time to settle down. As he and the others sat down and awaited a much needed breakfast, Barry wondered how Miss Sarah's bachelorette party had gone. He felt it reassuring that Miss Sarah wasn't the type for craziness.

_**The Night Before, at Lakeview**_

"Bon-bon, Miss Sarah?" asked Willa, offering a box to Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah sat in a big chair with a paper crown on her head. She smiled softly and nodded, taking one of the delicious chocolates out of the box and popping it into her mouth. Miss Sarah moaned in delight as the chocolate swirled around in her mouth.

The flow of the party was pretty light, with Miss Sarah, the other maids, Mrs. Hatch, and a few other women enjoying the night. Music played from a gramophone in the corner and spirits were pretty even. Miss Sarah seemed happy that her little hen party was going so smoothly. Even little Reavie seemed to be enjoying herself, having perched herself on Miss Sarah's lap. It felt nice for the maids to be in regular clothing.

The room was divided by a large red curtain.

"You won't believe what I heard from one of the maids working in the house on the other side of the lake. You know, that couple that's always walking hand in hand and boasting about how their marriage is built on trust and love and all that." Beryl whispered to another partygoer. "She said she was cleaning under her boss's bed and found a box full of naughty pictures! But they weren't of his wife!" Beryl laughed along with the partygoer. "So much for that flawless marriage! I bet he's going to get hell for it!"

Mrs. Hatch, after fetching herself some more wine, looked over at Rosie preparing herself a small plate from the snack table. "Rosie, those are some lovely shoes!" Mrs. Hatch almost shouted. Rosie, looking down, just nodded to Mrs. Hatch. "Where did you get them, dear?"

Rosie sighed and put her plate down. "They were a gift." She mumbled. Rosie picked up her plate and walked away. Mrs. Hatch could sense something off, and not the usual sense she felt around Rosie. Being always in what she liked to call "Mother Mode", Mrs. Hatch decided to press the matter when the party was over. She felt Rosie had something she needed to say.

"Your wine glass is almost empty, Miss Sarah!" shouted Willa. Willa picked up a nearby wine bottle and refilled Miss Sarah's glass. "I really like this wine. It's light but it still packs a punch. That Guevenne guy that sold it to us earlier in the market sure knows how to make a good wine."

Miss Sarah smiled and stood up, shooing Reavie away. "Thank you all for such a lovely party. I know I shouldn't gush, but I'm just so happy right now. I'm getting married in two days to a wonderful guy and I'll be entering into a family full of love and understanding." Miss Sarah motioned to Mrs. Hatch, who blushed. "It will be hard leaving Lakeview Manor and Mr. Reaver, but I take with me the experience of a lifetime. I don't think I'd be able to get through this without all of you. Especially you, Rosie."

Rosie heard her name and turned around from getting her snacks. "Thank you, Rosie. For being the first true friend I ever made. And thank you, Beryl and Willa, for also making me feel welcome. Everyone, thank you for being such wonderful friends and staying with me through the good times and bad." Miss Sarah raised her glass and everyone did the same.

When Miss Sarah sat down, everyone crowded around her. Rosie sat next to her and smiled deviously. "Ready for the fun to begin, Miss Sarah?" she asked.

Miss Sarah, who shared the same grin, pulled out her purse and sat it on her lap. "Yes, let's begin…"

The red curtain opened and the music became much jauntier. Mrs. Hatch, sitting next to Miss Sarah, laughed loudly and held up her wine glass. She, along with the others, took out their own respective purses and waited for the lights to go down. "ALRIGHT NOW!" Mrs. Hatch shouted. "BRING ON THE BEEFCAKE!"

The music got louder as the "entertainment" danced unto the makeshift stage. The women, hooting and hollering, threw money at the dancers as they pranced around.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, everyone!<strong>

**Well, didn't expect that, did you? Yep, just a few more chapters to go before the big day. The last part was my favorite part to write. Does it show?**

**You all know Sam Guevenne, correct? You all might know him as Sanguine, Daedric Prince of Debauchery from the Elder Scrolls series. It felt right to let our dear ol' Uncle Sanguine make a small cameo in this chapter.**

**Ahh, the grand tradition of getting completely smashed a few nights before your wedding. Is there anything more lovely? Of course, you never really need a reason to get smashed, now do you? I certainly don't, though I'm not much of a drinker. I do enjoy cake, so there is that. Hehehe**

**So, apparently, as of this writing, I have a tumblr account. I'll start posting a few of my musings over there, along with some journal updates and maybe some pictures of my everyday life for you guys to enjoy/laugh at/exploit. The link to it is over at my dA page so follow me for updates and such. Or if you're lazy, it's lunapeachielovesyou dot tumblr dot com. Just combine all those.**

**How did I do? How does it feel to know this story will be ending in just a few chapters? Let me know in a review! I love getting reviews, so don't forget to do that. Well, what are you waiting for?**

**Read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead**

**Sam Guevenne (Sanguine) belongs to Bethesda**


	37. From The Heart

_Reaver's Servants_

From The Heart

The evening had set in pretty early, as it often did in the fall. By this time, the manor was quiet. It had been quiet all day, which seemed odd to its inhabitants. The lack of clouds promised the next day would be sunny and that was important.

The decorations in place, the guests set to arrive in a few hours' time (some already there), and everyone too eager to sleep; that was Lakeview Manor. The only servant awake didn't bother to see what time it was as she strolled through the empty dining room. She hadn't slept well in quite some time and it was beginning to show. She had a big duty the following day and she was afraid she'd sleep right through it. But there was more at stake than just falling asleep during the wedding.

Rosie stood by the big window near the front door of the foyer, looking out toward the front yard. Everything was in place; all that was missing were the guests and the bride and groom. Two lives were going to change in a matter of hours, but Rosie's time was running out.

She sighed, wondering if she was doing the right thing. She stared at the contract nestled against her chest and then back out the window. She must have flipped through it a thousand times during the last few days and she had read every word down to the last period. It was all there, all legal and she would only benefit from it. If that were the case, why did she feel like she was getting the short end of the stick?

What would happen to the others if she didn't agree to the terms? Reaver would throw them all out and once again, they'd have nowhere to go. Back on the streets again, living in a shabby room at the inn waiting for work while their money dwindles. Rosie shuddered at the thought of joining another circus, so that was out of the question. Rosie could put her abilities as a healer to good use, but that would only keep her from going hungry, not the others.

There didn't seem to be much choice. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Reaver giving them jobs around his home instead of turning them away, and she certainly felt flattered at the thought of him thinking of her in the matrimonial sense, but she knew it would be a sham. She knew he didn't love her and she couldn't say she felt anything of the sort for him, either. It felt hollow and Rosie didn't like it.

"Oh my, you're up late, Rosie dear!" yawned a voice from behind. Rosie turned around and saw Mrs. Hatch coming down the stairs in her nightgown with most of her hair under a nightcap. She was carrying something in her arms but didn't acknowledge it. "I was going to make myself some of that relaxation tea Sarah likes and look over some old photographs. Would you care to join me?" Mrs. Hatch didn't wait for an answer as she walked into the kitchen. Rosie put the contract on a table near the door and followed the swishing of Mrs. Hatch's pink nightgown. She sat on a stool at the counter where Miss Sarah normally prepared the meals.

Striking a match on a nearby surface, Mrs. Hatch lit one of the stoves and put a tea kettle on the burner. "There, now we wait. In the meantime, you can tell me what's bothering you." Mrs. Hatch sat next to Rosie on another stool. Mrs. Hatch looked tired, but no more than Rosie. She wasn't wearing any make-up, but still had a natural maternal beauty. She aged quite well. Rosie didn't get a chance to deny anything was wrong when Mrs. Hatch put up her hand. "Don't deny it. I may not be a seer, but a mother always knows when something is wrong."

Rosie sighed, remembering that she left the contract out in the foyer. Rosie decided she might as well not even bother to hide it. Nothing got over on Mrs. Hatch. "Well, I guess I'm not as eager to have this wedding end as everyone else." Rosie mumbled. "I'm happy for Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch, but I'm afraid of what's going to happen to me and the others once they leave Lakeview Manor. I know it's selfish of me to think of myself when Miss Sarah needs me to be on my toes, but I can't help it."

Mrs. Hatch nodded and let Rosie continue. Rosie took a deep breath. "Mrs. Hatch, would you marry someone you didn't love to save yourself form the streets?"

With a soft sigh, Mrs. Hatch spread out the pictures on the counter. "Does this have something to do with those packages you've been getting lately?" Mrs. Hatch asked.

Turning her head, Rosie didn't answer. Mrs. Hatch had her answer. A disapproving moan came from Mrs. Hatch's lips, but she didn't press the matter any further.

She looked down at her pictures. "Before I met my Bertram, I was to be married to a very rich farmer's son." Mrs. Hatch sighed. Rosie looked at Mrs. Hatch in disbelief. Mrs. Hatch always sung praises of her late husband but never spoke of a romance before him. Mrs. Hatch waved that thought from Rosie's mind. "I had only met him a few times and his father was a prominent figure in town at the time. My father agreed to it, seeing it beneficial to his business. I wasn't in love with the farmer's son and I'm pretty sure he didn't love me. My mother didn't like the arrangement any more than I did, and only went along with it because it was so important to my father. I couldn't bear the thought of being married to a man I didn't love. So, when I came of age, I told my mother and father I wanted to see the kingdom alone before I got married. My mother told me she wouldn't be upset if I never came back to Brightwall."

Rosie heard the tea kettle whistling and got up to make the tea. Rosie produced two tea cups and poured tea into each before sitting back down and handing Mrs. Hatch her tea. "I toured the kingdom, made new friends, sent letters back to my parents, and I eventually found myself in Bowerstone. But I knew I was only running from the inevitable. The money I had saved and the money my parents gave me had dried up, so I got a job at a tavern to save up in order to go back to the mountains. I knew my fate awaited me in Brightwall. That is, until I met my Bertram and you know how the rest of that story goes." Mrs. Hatch giggled and sipped her tea. "My father was furious when I wrote back home and told them I was staying in Bowerstone to marry Bertram but eventually he came around. Before he died, he told me he actually liked Bertram more."

The pictures on the counter were old and slightly worn from years of being totted around and shown off, but Rosie recognized Mrs. Hatch in a few of them. Rosie saw a soft smile crinkle across her face when she picked up one in particular. It was an old picture, from the days before the instant photo-boxes when pictures took a week or more to develop. Mrs. Hatch stood beside a man Rosie knew to be her late husband, from all the other pictures of him she totted around. The baby in her arms in the picture Rosie knew to be Barry.

"No one can tell you who you love, Rosie dear. I never married again after Bertram died because I knew no one could hold a candle to him. I wish he were here today to see our Barry get married, but I know that in whatever life we have after this one, he'll be waiting for me." Mrs. Hatch picked up her pictures and placed them in a neat pile near her tea cup. "The worst thing you can do is let others tell you who to love. Or worse, have someone force you to love them." Mrs. Hatch narrowed her eyes at Rosie, as if she knew why Rosie asked. "Let love find its way, my dear. If there is anything between the two parties, it will show itself in time."

Rosie didn't say anything. She knew Mrs. Hatch spoke the truth. She hadn't touched her own tea cup, even though Mrs. Hatch was almost completely done with hers. "Tell me, Rosie dear; can you see my son's future with Sarah?" Mrs. Hatch asked.

Rosie nodded. "Yes, I have seen it. I want to tell them, but Miss Sarah refuses to listen. It might be best if I don't. When one knows the future, they have a greater chance of changing it. That's what I told Mr. Hatch when I had the first vision of their future. He hasn't told Miss Sarah, either."

Mrs. Hatch, looking sternly at Rosie, put her empty cup down. "Rosie, have you seen _your_ future?" she asked.

Rosie shook her head. "There is something most people don't know about fortune tellers, Mrs. Hatch." Rosie sighed. "Most can't see their own futures. I've never admitted it to anyone, but I can't see my future. Only a handful of seers can admit they can predict their future, but I can't. Honestly, I'm glad I can't. I see my abilities as a curse more than a gift. Ever since I was a child, I had these abilities. People saw me as a freak and shunned me, and those who wanted to help me only saw how they could profit from it. It's one of the reasons I never had a good grasp on my ability. I eventually found people who accepted me in a gypsy camp somewhere near the coast. They taught me how to control my powers and they even taught me how to use them along with healing arts. But as I learned control, I became scared of my own power. Soon, even the camp started to see me as a means to some kind of end they never explained and I left before I could fully grasp my ability. I ended up in the circus where I met the others. I guess I've spent so many years hiding my abilities that I started to hide from it as well."

Taking her pictures back, Mrs. Hatch smiled and stood up. "Rosie dear, don't deny the world your power. Don't deny the world the wonderful person you are. When it comes to love, don't sell yourself short and certainly don't settle. Whoever he may be, let him earn your love. Make him chase you." Mrs. Hatch smiled deviously and left the kitchen.

Rosie sat at the counter for a long time. She wasn't sure what time it was when she finally got up. She needed to attempt sleep. She had a big job in the morning. Leaving the kitchen, Rosie walked toward the foyer and found herself stopping just before the stairs. She felt cold all of a sudden and her vision became fuzzy. The room began to spin and she found herself wobbling about. Rosie's head began to throb and soon she found herself doubled over on the floor. Her vision blurred in and out until all she saw was a pair of slippers and then darkness.

_**Sometime Later**_

Rosie blinked a few times and rose up. She rubbed her head and looked around, not recognizing her surroundings. Her eyes started to adjust to the candlelight and she finally knew where she was. What she didn't know was how she got there and how long she had been out.

"Tut-tut, my dear. Don't rise too fast." sang a voice from the corner. Rosie rubbed her eyes and looked around. She was in the master bedroom, but more importantly, she was in Reaver's bed. Rosie started to panic but found movement difficult while still dizzy. Reaver, sitting at a table near a row of bookshelves, let out a sigh and closed what looked like his journal. "I warned you. I found your body sprawled out on my beautiful imported marble floors and brought you up here. It was quite romantic, though I was the only one conscious for it."

Rosie heard him chuckle softy as he put his pen away. Rosie wasn't laughing. Reaver sat back in his chair. "Oh, come now Rosie; if it makes you feel better, I didn't fondle you or anything like that while I carried you up here. Your amazon physique was tempting, but I do have a bit more respect for you than that. Tell me, why are you awake when we all have a big day tomorrow, hmm?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Rosie mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaver's bed was very comfortable, with silk sheets and a mattress filled with the finest cotton. It wasn't too firm, though it wasn't too soft, either. Everything in his room looked like it was made from the finest materials available. Even Reavie's bed at the other end of the room looked like it was specially made just for her. Rosie noticed that the bed didn't have Reavie in it.

"I was up doing some last minute business in the office when I heard noise downstairs. Since Hatch is sleeping in the spare bedroom of the servant's hall tonight, I decided to go see for myself what was going on. I found you and brought you up here." Reaver's answer was surprisingly simple.

Reaver glanced back toward Rosie without moving his head. Rosie looked over at the small clock on the nightstand. She was relieved to find it wasn't very late and she still had time to get more sleep before the wedding the next day. "Do you like my bed?" Reaver asked as Rosie stood up. "No expense spared, of course. The headboard was replaced not too long ago, though." Reaver chuckled, nibbling on the tip of his finger. "Still, I like to see things as an investment. I won't put money or effort into anything I don't see paying off in the end."

Rose didn't respond. She started to walk toward the door but stopped just before. "Anything worth doing is worth doing right." She muttered, reaching for the doorknob.

By now, Reaver was starting to lose his patience. "And what do you propose, hmm?" Reaver asked, still not looking at Rosie. "My dear, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the traditional type of man. I'm not an ethical man, either. Hell, I'm still in litigation with the parents of a girl scout I…well, it's not important what happened to her or whether or not the neighbors found their rose gardens exceptionally lovely last spring. I am a businessman. I see something I know can give me a good profit and I take it. But profit need not be money, my dear."

Reaver finally stood up and faced Rosie. She had been avoiding him, and he knew this. She was conveniently cleaning another room when he was around or she made her escape quickly whenever he was around. It was a game Reaver enjoyed, but was quickly getting tired of. "So, what are your demands?" he asked, standing as straight as a board. "Long walks along the lake? Picnic lunches on the hill by the waterfall? A peck on the cheek here and there? I can act with the best of them, Rosie."

"I don't want an act." Rosie finally said. "I want…" Rosie sighed and said nothing more.

Reaver walked over to Rosie and put his hands on her shoulders. "Rosie, I think we need to make some negotiations." he whispered, turning her to face him. "Look at all I am offering you." Reaver turned Rosie to face the bedroom. "Not just my mansion or my money, but I am offering you a life without worry or actual work! You don't have to do anything at all! All I ask is that you stay here, with me. Stay with me, Rosie. You won't have to worry about anything and the others keep their jobs. All you have to do is sign on the dotted line and stay with me."

Rosie could tell Reaver was getting desperate. Rosie felt his efforts weren't just for business anymore. Reaver walked over to his bed and grabbed the sheets. It took all his willpower to keep from tearing them.

Rosie felt her head hurt again but she smiled softly. She had another vision. "You've made deals in the past you seem to regret now. But I won't hold it against you, Sir." She chuckled. The vision she was having made her happy, though Reaver found the look on her face very creepy. He had second thoughts about the arrangement when he saw her smile. Rosie rarely smiled and seeing it was a scary sight. "I believe I've made my decision." She announced, turning the doorknob.

Reaver looked hopefully at Rosie. "Well?!" he shouted, gripping his sheets to the point of almost tearing them. "Well, what is it?! Do we have anything to announce to the crowd at the wedding tomorrow?! Do I put in the work order to turn my 'secret love chamber' into a walk-in closet or what?! I need to know these things ahead of time! Be more prompt with me in the future!"

With a laugh, Rosie shook her head. "You're impossible. I've made my decision, but I don't think tomorrow or even tonight is the best time for it. Mr. Hatch and Miss Sarah deserve their day without interruptions." With that, Rosie left Reaver standing over his bed, nearly tearing his sheets apart. "Mr. Reaver, the reason I was on the floor was because I had a vision. The reason I don't look into my own future is because I can't. At least I couldn't until tonight." Rosie turned back to Reaver, though her eyes weren't angry. "When one knows their future, they have a greater chance of changing it." With that, Rosie left Reaver's room.

"THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING!" Reaver shouted as his door closed. What was coming over him? Reaver had no idea why he was putting so much effort into Rosie when he knew he could have any woman (or man) he wanted. Why was he investing so much into grabbing Rosie? Whatever the reason, Reaver didn't like what he was feeling at the moment. He felt an emptiness in his chest that money, alcohol, nor sex could fill when Rosie left his bedroom. A feeling he hadn't felt in years. A feeling he vowed never to let take over him again.

Reaver didn't like to lose. He detested the very notion of letting someone get over on him (unless it was a different type of 'getting over'). But for once, there was nothing he could do. For once, Reaver wasn't in control and now all Reaver could do was wait.

* * *

><p><strong>N'cha, my loves!<strong>

**So, this is filler for to tide you guys over until the next chapter. That chapter being the wedding!**

**Not much to say about this chapter, but I wanted one last chance to explore Rosie's background a little more. What do you think Rosie's answer will be? What was her vision? WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH REAVER?! Well, let me know what you think!**

**Oh! I have a tumblr account now! You know what you should do? You should follow me on tumblr! My name on there is lunapeachielovesyou and it's quite a lovely place. Updates, little peaks into my everyday life, and maybe an odd rambling or two; not to mention I usually follow anyone who follows me. My replies and reblogs are hi-larious. I like to think they are, anyway. I'm a pretty boring person outside my fics haha…ha…hmm…**

**ANYWHO! Let me know how I did in the review thingy and let me know what you think Rosie's answer will be. LET ME KNOW! REVIEW! Sorry, I'm currently on a diet and my systems have yet to get used to not having junk food in them.**

**So, read, review, and be merry, my doves!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


	38. I Do

_Reaver's Servants_

I Do

Panic.

That was the word of the morning. While the house itself looked serene and ready for the day's events on the outside, panic was ensuing on the inside. The front of Lakeview Manor was draped top to bottom with lace streamers, flowers specifically bought and planted for the big day, and the sun was shining bright. As hot as it was, none of the guests could believe it was fall. The guests were starting to arrive in droves as the wedding party was getting ready inside.

One guest looked up at the sprawling manor and smiled. It was indeed a beautiful day for a wedding and the weather couldn't have been more agreeable. This guest seemed a bit out of place, but blended in with the help of his immaculate suit. He was no guest, however. He had merely heard about the wedding from gossip in the pub the night before. This was obviously a man of means, but even the rich never pass up a chance at free food and hob-knobbing for good connections amongst the equally wealthy. He bumped into another guest and apologized for his clumsiness. As the other guest turned back to his conversation, this guest produced the filched invitation in the golden envelope that he knew neither the bride nor groom chose in between his index and middle finger. He presented it to an usher, waited for the okay to enter the gates, and began to mingle with a certain ease.

The inside was much less relaxed. Elite caterers hired by Reaver got the final touches of the wedding supper prepared in the kitchen, the ushers left the house to get the guests to their seats outside, and waiters served drinks to said guests waiting in the front of the manor. Upstairs, chaos was building.

Inside Reaver's room, the men had no trouble getting themselves ready, aside from the tuxedo shop mixing up their order with another wedding occurring in Bowerstone later that same day. "As a general rule of thumb when it comes to suits, my good gents…" Reaver began buttoning the best on his best man's outfit. "…always have a spare suit ready in case it needs to be chopped up for parts." He laughed. Gordon was missing a cuff link and Elliot's vest was missing a button. "Where's the groom?"

"Still vomiting into your fancy gold painted bathtub, I believe." Geoffrey grunted, realizing his shirt was too small. He looked over at Elliot, whose shirt was too big. They nodded to each other and switched shirts as Reaver watched with bemusement. "He's been in there throwing up for the last few hours." Geoffrey buttoned up his correct shirt and went to the full-length mirror that Reaver was just using and started to get ready as well. Geoffrey felt it was all a little too extravagant for his sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law to have such a big wedding. He figured his sister was panicking at the moment as well.

Reaver scoffed and folded his arms. "He's getting married soon and he's already a wreck. I figured that wouldn't happen until an hour and a half before the ceremonies." Reaver mumbled angrily and reached into his pocket to take out a piece of paper. "Alright, who had him down for three hours in the pool?" Reaver asked, finding a pen. Elliot raised his hand and caught a small bag of gold being tossed at him. "An extra bonus is in there because you also bet he'd be vomiting." Reaver crumbled up the paper and tossed it in a nearby waste bin. "Next pool starts in a half hour."

The bathroom door finally opened revealing Barry with a handkerchief over his mouth. "Hello, all…" he murmured, walking over to the bed. Luckily, he wasn't in his suit yet.

"Hatch, I know you're nervous, but try not to die today. It's terribly improper to die at one's own wedding. Miss Sarah and Mother Hatch would have a fit!" Reaver shouted as he put on a glove. Barry only stared at Reaver while looking for his suit. "I'm going to go check on the girls. You gents help Hatch get ready." Reaver left immediately after that.

"Some best man." Elliot murmured, helping Barry into his suit. Barry's groom outfit was obviously made from fine materials. It was completely white and very fancy; reminding him of something Reaver would wear on a night out. He felt the coat tails were a bit too long, but just ignored it. Barry wondered if anyone else was as nervous as he was at this moment. "How did he win over me?" Elliot asked, straightening Barry's sleeve.

"He used underhanded tactics." Barry moaned as Geoffrey snapped the cufflinks on.

"He used the balverine thing against you, didn't he?" Elliot asked in a low whisper, glancing at Gordon to make sure he couldn't hear them. Barry often forgot that he had told Elliot about his "affliction" but knew he could trust him.

Barry nodded. "But Sarah already knows about that." Geoffrey added. Geoffrey already knew about Barry's affliction just from the signs. "I suppose it was too late in the planning to change anything."

Sighing, Barry reached for his pants and put them on, fastening each button slowly. Elliot went to fetch his gloves from the dresser and helped Barry into them. "I'm marrying Sarah today…" Barry whispered as he fixed himself up in the mirror. "When she and the others first started, I could barely get myself to say good morning to her. Now, I'm about to read my vows in front of all those people." Barry chuckled nervously and fixed his sleeve. "In a matter of hours, Sarah will be my wife."

Gordon, having stayed quiet during the entire procedure, finally found his cuff link and snapped it on. "I heard, thanks to Mr. Reaver, that almost every noble family in Albion will be here." He mumbled without looking at the others. "I heard a rumor that even Queen Robin herself was going to be in attendance! But that might only be because Elliot is in the party or her brother is here as Reaver's guest."

Gordon didn't turn around when he heard Barry's feet stomping back to the bathroom. He did turn his head to see Elliot give him the stink-eye. Geoffrey chased after Barry to keep him from being sick all over his brand new suit.

In what had been dubbed "The War Room", the ladies frantically got ready. Corsets were being tightened, dresses were being slipped on over dress slips, and shoes were being hunted down. Miss Sarah, her hands firmly on the bed post, gasped as Willa tightened the corset strings on the elaborate lacy corset Miss Sarah was to wear under her dress. Willa had one foot on the floor and one on the bed frame for leverage. With each grunt, a millimeter of Miss Sarah's waist disappeared.

"Is that corset tightened? Beryl, be a dear and help Willa with that blasted corset!" Mrs. Hatch shouted, some of her hair in curlers and her face still covered in the green beauty mask goo. "It needs to be tight. Her hips and bust need to be pronounced and someone put some ice to her lips! They need to be a soft pink before we apply the lipstick!" Mrs. Hatch went to the mirror and grunted. "I look a mess." She murmured, picking up a small mirror.

With Beryl pulling Willa, the corset strings took life again. In the corner, Rosie dusted off the dress Miss Sarah was to wear carefully, not wanting a repeat of her last encounter with a wedding dress. Already in her dress, Rosie only sighed and eyed the wedding gown intensely. She began to think back to the night before and wondered if she was indeed making the right decision. Now was not the time to have second thoughts. Rosie had a job to do and she needed to be focused. She ignored the chaos going on behind her.

"Tighter!" Mrs. Hatch shouted at the girls.

Miss Sarah gasped loudly as Willa and Beryl grunted. "Mrs. Hatch, any tighter and her head will pop off!" Beryl shouted, rubbing her exhausted arms.

Mrs. Hatch helped Miss Sarah up and straightened her out. She smiled at her daughter-in-law-to-be and fixed her hair. "Sarah dear, you look radiant." She whispered, making hurrying motions to the others. The girls swiftly brought over the dress mannequin that held the bride's dress. It had been cleaned, taken in, taken out, and things were added and taken away, but it was finally ready. Miss Sarah stepped in front of the full length mirror and held her arms up. All the maids helped lift the dress up and place it on Miss Sarah.

As the dress slowly fell over her, Miss Sarah felt a sense of peace fall as well. All the planning and heartache would pay off in just a few hours. When she and the others arrived just a year ago, she never thought she'd be a bride. Of course, she had feelings for Barry the moment she met him, but Miss Sarah tried not to think about love back then. The wedding made her happy and sad at the same time. As Mrs. Hatch and the others started doing her hair, Miss Sarah's thoughts went back to her first fiancé.

Years before her time at the circus, Miss Sarah met and fell in love with a soldier. He was the son of a noble family that lived near her old home and they seemed to get along well. She felt he was noble for casting off the shackles of class and going to build his own future. This future he wanted to share with his beloved Sarah. She was ecstatic when he told her he had been accepted into Elite training and she waited for his return. When he came back, he was like a statue: sometimes cold and stony. Miss Sarah felt the warmth that still resided in him and brought it out when they were around. He asked for her hand in marriage before he was set to go on an expedition with then-King Logan. She accepted and waited…

A lone tear fell from Miss Sarah's right eye. "Miss Sarah, what's wrong?" asked Willa, picking a handkerchief off the dresser. Willa dabbed Miss Sarah's cheek, trying not to smear the make-up. "Today is a happy day but those aren't tears of happiness."

Miss Sarah smiled sadly and looked into the vanity mirror she was sitting in front of. She didn't remember sitting at the vanity mirror and she didn't remember having a towel around her neck. Willa and Beryl were doing her make-up while Mrs. Hatch and Rosie were doing her hair. "Do you think he'd be happy that I'm marrying Barry?" Miss Sarah asked. Everyone looked at her in confusion. "I love Barry very much and I know my old fiancé would want me to be happy."

Mrs. Hatch smiled and took the handkerchief from Willa. "He'd want you to continue living, to continue loving. It's perfectly acceptable to think about past loves on a wedding day. When I married Bertram, I thought about every boyfriend I had ever had. I even thought about…well let's not speak of that today. But no matter how many loves I had, I knew Bertram was the one for me. That's why I never remarried. I knew he'd be happy if I remarried and went on with my life, but Bertram was my life. He and Barry were the only men I needed and now seeing my Barry-bear marrying a good woman like you, I know a new chapter in my life is about to begin."

Willa gave Mrs. Hatch the powder and let her finish with the make-up. "Thank you, Mother Hatch. You've been more of a mother to me than my own."

With tears in her eyes, Mrs. Hatch gave Miss Sarah a big hug. The others joined in just as a knock came at the door. The door opened slowly to Reaver peeking his head in just an inch. "Ladies, I came to check up on you and to see if you needed any help getting into any frilly undergarments." he chuckled, trying to sneak a peek. Before he could get his entire head into the door, loud screaming and shoes being thrown made him shut the door fast. The sound of shoes hitting the closed door made him sigh in relief.

The groomsmen save for the groom and the best man had already made their way outside to make sure the guests were comfortable. Drinks were already being served. Elliot grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one to Gordon. "Busy day, huh?" Elliot said, trying to make conversation with Gordon. "You look more nervous than Barry, and he's the one getting married!"

Gordon looked like he was resisting the urge to scratch an itch. "Weddings give me a rash." Gordon whispered, wincing uncomfortably while trying not to spill his drink. "I think it's the material most suits are made out of. My skin is too sensitive for cheap materials, which is why I'm glad Mr. Reaver designed my uniform." Gordon sipped his drink while Elliot only nodded. Gordon looked around, as if looking for someone.

Elliot sipped his champagne softly and looked at Gordon. "Expecting someone?" he asked.

"I'm trying to see if the girls are out here yet." Gordon murmured.

"They come out with the bride when the wedding starts. Reaver only sent us out here as crowd control while he goes and peeps on the girls. I imagine he's being pelted with shoes right about now." Elliot looked up at the manor to a specific window. "How nervous do you think Barry is?"

"I imagine he's just having dry heaves now." Gordon answered. "I mean, he hasn't eaten anything in a while, so he can't have much left to throw up."

With a soft chuckle, Elliot looked around the crowd. "I wonder where all these people came from. Surely they can't all be Barry and Sarah's guests. These don't look like the type of people Barry or Sarah would willingly mingle with. I can recognize a few nobles from the courts, but all these people…"

Gordon folded his arms and looked around. "Not Mr. Hatch's type of people, that's for sure."

Elliot nodded and looked at the crowd. Some of the best known families in Albion were in attendance for this wedding, though he imagined it was only because they were invited by Reaver. Barry and Elliot had been friends for a while and knew Barry and Miss Sarah would want a small wedding with just family and friends. Leave it to Reaver to make even a servant's wedding the social event of the season. Being the husband of the Queen (thus making him the King Consort), Elliot knew most of these families.

One face, however, neither Elliot nor Gordon had ever seen before. "Hey Gordon," Elliot asked, lowering his drink to get a better look. "…do you know who that is?" Elliot pointed to a tall dark haired man with a suit that would rival Reaver's. The strange man laughed and joked with the guests and seemed in his element amongst the posh Albion Elite. "One of your old circus friends, maybe?" Elliot asked, remembering hearing of the servant's time as circus performers.

Gordon shook his head. "Never seen him before in my life." Gordon whispered. "Maybe he's one of Mr. Reaver's friends. He sure looks like someone he'd befriend."

As if on cue, the man moseyed his way toward Gordon and Elliot. "Hello, gents. Lovely day for a wedding." The man took champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it calmly. The man calmly walked away and began to mingle again. Gordon scratched his head and shrugged, not really paying attention to anything else. Gordon and Elliot followed the guest, suddenly curious. The man had a feeling the two were following him and turned around. "Yes?" he asked.

Gordon cleared his throat. "Are you a guest of the bride or the groom?" he asked. "...or Mr. Reaver?"

The man chuckled and finished his drink. "I'm a guest and that's all you need to concern yourself with. I have an invitation if you doubt that." The guest pulled out the gold envelope and the fancy invitation. Gordon and Elliot scrutinized it but never touched it. It was indeed one of the invitations that Reaver had sent out. The guest dismissed himself again, leaving Gordon and Elliot to wonder.

Inside, Barry continued to get ready. He stood close enough to the door that he heard giggling from down the hallway. The girls were ready for the wedding to begin. He imagined them priming Miss Sarah up, doing her hair, fluffing her dress so that it fell properly over her dress slip, and then looked at himself again in the full length mirror. He reached for a comb and tried to straighten his hair, but found his hands uncooperative along with the rest of his body.

Barry dropped the comb and rubbed his eyes, trying to get himself focused for the task of the day. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. It wasn't a day before a full moon (he had personally made sure of that) and he had only a small bowl of oatmeal for breakfast that morning. Nothing should have been making him sick. But there he was: Barry Hatch, groom-to-be, feeling like he just woke up after a bad night of heavy drinking.

"Get yourself together, Hatch." He murmured, bending down to pick up the comb. Steadying his hand, Barry started to straighten his hair. "You're getting married today. You're marrying Sarah, the woman of your dreams! She's so wonderful, there's no reason you should be thinking otherwise…"

Barry combed his hair into place and then sighed. "Sarah is so wonderful. How did she ever fall in love with a hump like me?" Sitting on Reaver's bed, Barry thought about everything that's happened so far. In a few short hours, he'd be standing in front of the woman he loved vowing his life to her. He gripped his hair as he leaned forward. It was then the door opened.

"Still feeling sick, Hatch?" Reaver asked, closing the door. Barry looked up and watches Reaver shake his head, making a few tsk noises. "Hatch, you're getting married in less than two hours. Why does your hair look like you just woke up?" Reaver picked Barry up and pushed him toward the mirror. "You know, after today I won't be around to keep you straightened up. That'll be Miss Sarah's job." Reaver picked a comb off the vanity dresser and started combing Barry's hair. "Miss Sarah sure has her work cut out for her."

Barry swallowed hard as Reaver tugged at his hair. "Master Reaver…" Barry started, not sure if Reaver was actually paying attention. "…do you think this is a good idea?"

Reaver didn't glance at Barry. "Well, I don't have time to cut your hair, Hatch-"

"No, I mean the wedding." Barry interrupted.

"Marriage itself is a terrible idea, Hatch." Reaver continued. "But you and Miss Sarah seem to know what you're doing so I won't dispute it."

"But what if her parents are right?" Barry asked as Reaver continued to tug at his hair. "What if I can't provide for her? She deserves to be treated like a queen and I still treat her like a cook. I know she said she's alright with living with Mother until we get our own place, but the last thing Sarah needs is to be hounded by that old bat constantly about grandchildren."

Reaver chuckled softly. "Hatch, you're a class act." Reaver laughed. "Not as classy as I am, but I like to think some of my classy aura has rubbed off on you over the years. If not only a little bit, anyway." Reaver stopped coming Barry's hair and went over to his mirror. He straightened himself up a bit and smiled at his reflection. "It's too bad the stars of today's festivities are you and Miss Sarah, because I think it's a crime to take second fiddle with how good I'm looking." With that, Reaver left Barry to think. "Hurry along, Hatch!"

Reaver closed the door to his bedroom just in time to see Rosie leave the "War Room". She didn't notice him, or at least pretended not to. Reaver noticed Rosie had Reavie following her. Reavie had an enormous soft pink bow wrapped around her neck but for once, didn't seem to like having one on. Reavie's fur seemed to be professionally groomed for today's events. She had no part in the wedding, but would be on Mrs. Hatch's lap for most of the ceremony.

Rosie stopped where she was and looked around, still not noticing Reaver. Something told Reaver that it wasn't him Rosie was sensing. Rosie grabbed her head and shook it. Maybe she had a headache and needed some air or escape from the claustrophobic atmosphere of the "War Room". Reavie wouldn't stop following Rosie, and Rosie looked like she was starting to get annoyed. Gently shooing Reavie away with her foot, Rosie leaned against a wall and rubbed her head.

"Now, don't blame the cat because this wedding is overwhelming you!" Reaver teased, walking up to Rosie. Rosie didn't look at Reaver, but he couldn't be sure if it was his presence that was causing her discomfort and pain. "You should be more cheerful. You have a big part to play in this charade. As do I…"

Rosie blinked and kept her face turned. "I do have a big part today…" she mumbled, almost mechanically. With that, she left Reaver standing there and went back into the room. Reaver looked confused, and not just the usual confusion he experienced whenever he talked to Rosie. Whatever was on her mind was making her more despondent than usual. Reaver humored himself, thinking she was still considering his proposal. He liked to think that, even on the day of someone else's wedding, he was still the center of attention. Reaver picked up Reavie and headed outside.

Reaver left the hallway just as Mrs. Hatch was finishing in the other room. "Don't worry, Sarah dear; I'll go check on him!" Mrs. Hatch shouted cheerfully as she left the room. Mrs. Hatch closed the door softly and straightened out her dress. All the groomsmen, including her son the groom, were supposed to be outside at this time. The ceremony was set to begin in no time. Mrs. Hatch raced down the stairs and outside. All the guests had arrived and most were still sober.

"Good, we need to start soon." She mumbled to herself, walking toward the groomsmen. "Gordon, Elliot, where is Barry?" she asked, loud enough to be heard over the laughter of some nearby drunken guests.

Gordon and Elliot shrugged. "He's still inside, as far as we known." Gordon answered. "Hey, Mrs. Hatch, do you know who that guy is?" Gordon pointed to the Guest, who was joking with another noble.

Mrs. Hatch squinted, regretting that she didn't bring her glasses, and folded her arms. This man was very tall, taller than Reaver, and dressed impeccably. He was obviously a man of means, given the fabric his suit was made from, but something about him still made Mrs. Hatch believe he didn't belong. She left Gordon and Elliot without saying a word and walked toward the Guest. The clacking of her heels caught the Guest's attention long before Mrs. Hatch even stepped up to him. He turned around and greeted Mrs. Hatch with a big smile.

For her part, Mrs. Hatch decided to be civil. She knew he wasn't from anywhere in her family, but he was very posh-looking. She figured he had to be from Miss Sarah's side. Mrs. Hatch stopped just a foot or so from the Guest and gave him her best _I-know-you-don't-belong-here_ look. Mrs. Hatch, in her dress, heels, and her hair styled, only smiled. "Bride's side or grooms?" she asked, pursing her lips so that her lipstick wouldn't smudge.

The Guest just grinned back. "Groom's side…" he answered, folding his arms. He didn't look intimidated by Mrs. Hatch.

"You don't look like anyone on my side of the family. How do you know my son?" she asked.

"I'm an acquaintance. Funny guy, I must say. He never said his mother was this beautiful." The Guest smiled wide, though Mrs. Hatch could have sworn it was a smirk.

"Flattery will only get you so far." Mrs. Hatch grinned, taking his arm and leading him toward the table with the drinks. "Let's see how far it can get you through this wedding without being thrown out." Mrs. Hatch had a lecherous grin that would make Reaver blush. "So, how about you sit next to me when the wedding starts…"

Gordon and Elliot looked at each other and watched Mrs. Hatch work her magic. They both laughed at the almost surprised look on the Guest's face, as if he was begging for help. "Mrs. Hatch has her target. He'll be lucky to leave here alive." Gordon laughed, walking with Elliot over to the other guests.

In the "War Room", Miss Sarah stood in front of the full length mirror with her bridesmaids around her. The dress looked perfect and so did Miss Sarah. Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun, her make-up made her look like a fine porcelain doll, and the corset had been loosened once Mrs. Hatch had left the room. She was happy to breathe again. Rosie picked the tiara with the veil attached to it off the bed and walked over to Miss Sarah.

Rosie placed the tiara veil on Miss Sarah's head, gently letting the veil fall over Miss Sarah's face. Miss Sarah put her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth and started to whimper. "Girls…" she said, trying to hold back her tears. The others were getting teary-eyed as well. "Girls, I'm about to get married!" she shouted, now crying happy tears. As the girls fell into a group hug and cried happy tears loudly. It was at that time that the door opened slowly.

"Don't pelt me with shoes, I come in peace!" Reaver shouted while keeping his eyes covered with his left hand. He was holding Reavie in his right arm. "I just came from outside and all the guests are here and sitting down. The champagne is running low, people are talking about cracking open the bottles we were saving for the wedding dinner, and Mother Hatch is flirting with a guest. I'd say it's about time to get this show on the road, my dears!"

The girls shouted excitedly and started for the dining room. Reaver stopped Miss Sarah for a moment and smiled at her. "Is something wrong, Mr. Reaver?" she asked.

Reaver shook his head. "Over a year ago, I hired you and the other circus rejects and now…I'm losing the best cook I've ever had!" Reaver liked to make a scene and cried overly dramatic tears. He blew his nose and smiled at Miss Sarah again. "You and Hatch belong together. He needs someone sturdy like you to keep him from starving to death and you need him to keep you from locking yourself in the pantry."

Miss Sarah smiled and accepted Reaver's hug, though she cut it short when she felt his gloved hands reach for her behind. Reaver left before the girls could run outside. The groomsmen stood in the foyer, waiting for the bridesmaids. Geoffrey, who was walking Miss Sarah down the aisle, was waiting outside. Everyone looked on in awe as Miss Sarah descended down the stairs.

The lights from the foyer were mostly dimmed and all the light they had was from the sun coming through the windows. Miss Sarah looked like she was descending from the heavens, her gown flowing behind her as she walked slowly as not to trip. Gordon and Elliot beamed ear to ear. Gordon had known Miss Sarah for years and knew today was the day her dream would come true.

"I'll go tell the band to start playing. I have to make sure Hatch is ready." Reaver left the house momentarily, placing Reavie down in front of Gordon.

Willa ran into the kitchen and came back out with a small basket. "Mr. Reaver says that Reavie is going to be our 'flower kitty'." Willa took a small bag out of the basket and tied it to Reavie's back. Reavie looked very uncomfortable. "We're going to poke a hole in the back and have Reavie run down the aisle ahead of us. Mrs. Hatch will catch her at the end." Willa reached into the basket again and pulled out a small pink pillow and a green box. Miss Sarah recognized this box as the one containing the wedding bands. Willa tied the small pink pillow to Reavie's head and placed the two bands on the pillow, attaching it with a string so they wouldn't fall off.

Everyone looked at Reavie with wide eyes. While they thought she looked adorable, Reavie felt miserable. "Everyone is going to love you, Reavie!" shouted Beryl, happily.

"She looks a little weighed down." said Gordon, rubbing his chin. Reavie tried to walk but kept teetering. Willa remedied this by placing the bag of flower petals on Reavie's lower back, close to her tail. It acted as a nice counterweight and Reavie was able to walk properly (for a cat). She happily picked up Reavie and cuddled her.

At that moment the doors opened slowly. "Is Hatch still inside?!" Reaver yelled.

"We've been in the dressing room all day, we haven't seen him." Rosie mumbled. "Miss Sarah and Mr. Hatch can't see each other before the wedding, so she didn't see him, either."

"I saw him leave your bedroom earlier, Mr. Reaver." said Gordon, fidgeting with his tie. "But I figured he was coming outside so the ceremony could start."

Reaver thought for a moment and ran upstairs. The girls looked at each other quizzically and ushered Miss Sarah to the study. "I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Miss Sarah." Beryl comforted. "He might just be upstairs, and if he is, you'll be in here so he doesn't see you." Before the boys could join them, the girls closed the study doors. The study doors were never closed and Gordon didn't know the study even had doors in the first place.

At that moment, Reaver ran downstairs. "He's not upstairs…"

How he managed to get passed all the guests without alerting anyone, especially his mother, was a mystery but Barry sat on the hill overlooking Bower Lake, far from the wedding. The watched the crowd in the front of Lakeview Manor as it pulsated with eagerness. He knew, as hot as it was that everyone was starting to get uncomfortable in their stuffy outfits on this oddly hot autumn day. He had been sitting on a rock and tried not to think about the wedding and the crowds and his mother probably fuming over him not being there.

Barry sighed and tried to think. He needed quiet and the chaos surrounding Lakeview wasn't helping his train of thought. "How did it come to this?" he asked himself as a bird flew overhead. "I'm supposed to be marrying the woman of my dreams but I'm sitting by the lake." Barry had asked himself that many times. "Her parents were right; I'm not good enough for her."

Barry looked over when he heard soft footsteps walk toward him. One of the resident stray cats meandered up to Barry and looked up at him. "Oh, hello." Barry murmured, looking down at the orange tabby cat. The cat was probably about the same age as Reavie, though Barry wasn't sure how old Reavie was. "I don't suppose you're here to give me a pep talk. I could use one." Barry picked up the cat and stroked its fur with a sigh. "I sometimes wish I were a cat. Never have to worry about stuff like getting married, just worry about who's going to feed me next. Hmm, that actually sounds like marriage when I say it out loud."

The cat mewed softly and looked at Barry deeply. The stomping sound of boots on the crunchy grass made the cat jump from Barry's grasp and hop toward the tree. Barry looked up and saw Reaver, marching toward him with a look of disapproval.

"There you are, Hatch! Why in Avo's name are you sitting up here when you're supposed to be down there, getting married?" Reaver asked, approaching Barry from the hill. Barry was wondering when someone would realize he was missing and of all people, it would be Reaver. "The wedding is starting in a few minutes, your mother is sending your groomsmen and the bridesmaids all over the region to find you, and the guests are starting to gossip." Reaver noticed Barry was sitting on a rock and was only slightly relieved that his suit wasn't getting dirty.

Barry sighed and looked down at the glistening water. "I'm not good enough for Sarah…" he mumbled, twiddling his thumbs.

"Well, of course you're not!" Reaver shouted, sitting on a nearby log. Barry, who was looking for words of encouragement, only glared at Reaver. "Why, Miss Sarah has got to be completely mad to marry a man like you, you blithering idiot. I mean, a perfectly good woman like her marrying a man who's sitting up here on his tuffet while the entire wedding panics. She's sitting in that room, just gussied up while the maids run around to find her missing shoes, looking forward to walking down that aisle and leaving today as 'Mrs. Barry Hatch', and Mr. Barry Hatch is sitting up on this hill contemplating life."

Groaning loudly, Barry gripped the sides of his head. "This whole thing is a mistake!" he shouted.

"Why do you think that?" Reaver asked, brushing off his suit. He felt the presence of someone coming up the hill but said nothing.

"Because Sarah needs someone who can take care of her the way she deserves to be. She deserves to be with someone who isn't having a panic attack at the notion of marrying her!" Barry moaned.

Reaver thought for a moment and smiled deviously. "Well, Hatch, when did you start feeling this way? And might I remind you, 'always' isn't a viable answer."

Barry sighed. "A few days ago, right before my bachelor party, I tried on the suit and when I looked at myself in the mirror I wondered 'Oh, why is she marrying a miserable lump like me?' and the doubts started right up after that."

Reaver looked at Barry and put his hand on his shoulder. "Hatch, listen to me and listen to me well, for what I am about to say will not be repeated ever again. You have been my assistant for years and you've kept my life orderly and perfectly scheduled since day one. As much as I would like for you to call this whole charade off and have things go back to the way they were, I know that's not going to happen. I would love more than anything to have you in my home tomorrow, keeping my schedule, but you won't be. I'd love to have Miss Sarah in the kitchen making my breakfast in the morning, but she won't be. You're marrying her and you'll be on your honeymoon and when you get back, you'll both be hiring your replacements. It's change, and though I don't like it, I've become accustomed to it. We both have to accept the inevitable here, Hatch. You're going on with your life and you're taking Miss Sarah with you. I knew eventually you'd leave, but I never actually expected you to take the best cook I ever had with you. But I can say, with all honesty, that you and Miss Sarah deserve each other. You've been nothing but a gentleman to her, which is more than I can say for myself. I've seen a lot of change in my life and I'm pretty sure I'm in for a lot more, but for once I can actually say I'm happy about it. I'm happy for you and Miss Sarah and you have my blessing to go on with your life. Change can be a good thing and a bad thing, but only you can decide which it will be. Now, get off your fanny and dust yourself off before your mother tears apart Millfields looking for you."

Barry looked up at his boss and smiled. Reaver and Barry stood up at the same time, with Reaver outstretching his hand. "Barry Hatch, there is someone waiting for you down there. Let's not disappoint her." With that, Reaver and Barry shook hands. Barry ran down the hill as fast as he could.

Reaver followed behind, but stopped at the tree. He looked over and saw Rosie standing behind it. He wanted to say something, but he didn't. He only smiled at her. Rosie smiled back and followed right behind him, but not getting too close.

"Barry!" shouted Mrs. Hatch, who was standing at the gate. "Where have you been? The wedding is about to start!"

Before Barry could answer, Reaver caught up to him. "He wasn't feeling good, Mother Hatch. Miss Sarah didn't cook last night and he ate something in town with me. It didn't sit well with him. Honestly, I'm starting to regret it myself. Nothing beats Miss Sarah's cooking. We were fools to betray her, Hatch!" Reaver loved being overly dramatic and he loved how Mrs. Hatch was just eating it up.

"Oh, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" Mrs. Hatch cooed, squishing Barry's cheeks together. "I have some antacids in my purse; you'll take a few of those and be right as rain." Mrs. Hatch pushed Barry toward the mansion and smiled at the confused guests.

Reaver rushed Barry up to his bedroom and slammed the door. The servants (save for Miss Sarah, who was still in the study) looked at each other in confusion. Reaver sat Barry on the bed and took out a comb. Hair combed, suit cleaned off, and boutonniere straightened, Barry Hatch was ready to get married. Reaver nodded and left the bedroom. Mrs. Hatch was waiting in the foyer. "He's ready!" Reaver shouted as Barry walked up behind him.

Mrs. Hatch gleamed happily and ran to her son as he descended the stairs. "My Barry-bear is getting married." She cried happily. Mrs. Hatch stood in front of her son and smiled a teary smile. To her, he was always going to be the five-year-old who used to throw worms at the neighbor girl or hide frogs in his teacher's desk. Barry wanted to push away, but instead he took his mother in his arms and hugged her tightly. Mrs. Hatch watched proudly as Barry opened the mansion doors, letting the band know it was time.

Mrs. Hatch took her seat at the front, next to the Guest. The Guest looked over the crowd, as if looking for someone in particular. Barry walked down the aisle first, trying not to take big strides. He took his place by the altar and sighed, straightening himself up. Reavie, with the pillow on her head and the cut bag of petals on her behind, resisted at first, but felt Reaver's boot press her out the mansion doorway. Reavie ran down the aisle, trailing petals behind her. Mrs. Hatch grabbed her before she could go passed the altar. The Guest reached over to pet Reavie, but she hissed at him and stayed on Mrs. Hatch's lap.

Reaver and Rosie came down the aisle next, Best Man and Maid of Honor. Arm in arm, they looked like they were getting married and Reaver liked that thought. Rosie looked at all the guests and noticed a few familiar faces. One face she didn't actually want to see. Ben Finn, who had been invited by Reaver as a joke, waved from his spot in the back row. Rosie grumbled and stayed the course. It wasn't until they reached the front of the seats that she noticed someone she really didn't want to see, now or ever. The Guest, while Mrs. Hatch was distracted, waved to Rosie.

Gordon and Beryl came next, also arm in arm. Beryl, wearing her nice glasses, smiled up at Gordon. Gordon had his eyes on Rosie in front of him. There was something he needed to say to Rosie, but he knew today wouldn't be appropriate. Beryl looked around at the guests and tugged on Gordon's sleeve, motioning toward Miss Sarah's side of the guest seating. Gordon couldn't believe it. Some of their old circus friends were in attendance. How that was possible, they didn't know.

Elliot and Willa came out next. Willa was shorter than Elliot, so the duo looked like an older brother helping his little sister around. Willa didn't like the big bow Mrs. Hatch was making her wear in the back of her hair, but tolerated it for Miss Sarah's sake. She felt like a child wearing it. Elliot looked over and saw his wife sitting in a nice chair on Barry's side of the guest seating. He waved to her as he felt Willa jump up and down with a big smile. Off on Miss Sarah's side of the seating was a very familiar man.

Geoffrey stood at the edge of the last row, waiting for his sister. He didn't see their parents and wasn't surprised that they weren't there. His wife sat in a chair close to the front on Miss Sarah's side of the guest seating. The mansion doors opened again and out appeared Miss Sarah. At that moment, the wind blew some of the flower petals up and they swirled around Miss Sarah as she approached the aisle. All the guests stood up. Barry's mouth dropped. He had never seen anything so beautiful. Reaver used his index finger and closed Barry's mouth.

Miss Sarah slowly walked down the aisle beside her brother. She looked like porcelain doll, her skin powdered almost milky white and her lips as red as roses. The veil let Barry see her, and he was thankful. The petals danced around Miss Sarah, slowly coming closer to him. Her veil blew slowly with the petals on the wind. As she slowly approached him, Barry had forgotten why he was scared. Her bouquet was made from some of Gordon's red roses from the garden and some white ones that Reaver insisted upon. She looked like a queen. It felt like there was no one else in the world except Barry and Miss Sarah.

Geoffrey proudly kept Miss Sarah on his arm as she fought the urge to wave at all her guests. She looked over and saw people she didn't think she'd ever see again. Almost everyone she knew from her circus days were in attendance of her wedding. Geoffrey told her he had a special gift prepared for her and that it wasn't an easy thing to accomplish. Geoffrey looked down at his sister as they approached the altar. She whispered her thanks and kissed Geoffrey on the cheek.

Approaching the altar, Geoffrey took his sister's hand, kissed it, and handed it to Barry. "Take care of her." He whispered, patting Barry on the shoulder. Geoffrey took his seat as Miss Sarah slowly stood next to her husband-to-be. Miss Sarah handed her bouquet to Rosie and stood in front of the altar with Barry.

At this time, Logan took the altar. There were a few murmurs from the audience, but both Miss Sarah and Barry ignored it. Logan was ordained and could legally perform this wedding. Logan no longer wore a scarf over his face. He was ready to rejoin Albion society. His eyes lit up as he read from the vow book in front of him. Her hands cupped in Barry's, Miss Sarah wasn't paying attention to anything happening beyond her and Barry. Logan began the ceremony.

Besides Logan reading, everything was quiet. Barry stared into Miss Sarah's eyes, examining everything. This was real. This was happening. Barry was marrying Miss Sarah, the cook that he longed for. Things were indeed changing. He wouldn't need an excuse to visit her in the kitchen from now on, or use buying groceries as an excuse to walk into town with her. He'd visit her in the kitchen to say good morning and he'd join her in the market to help her buy food for them.

"…and now, Barry and Sarah will exchange vows…" Logan said softly.

Barry took Miss Sarah's hands tightly and smiled down at her. "Sarah, for as long as I've known you, there has been no other woman on my mind. The moment you and the others walked into Lakeview Manor, I just knew we'd share something special. From our morning chats while you made breakfast to our nightly clean-up rituals, I've enjoyed every moment with you. I don't know what I did to deserve a wonderful woman like you, but I hope to keep trying to make myself better, just for you. You keep me on my toes and I know I'll never starve to death. You brighten my mornings and you warm up my nights. I love you, Sarah."

Miss Sarah, with tears forming in her eyes, smiled back at Barry. "Barry, I never thought I'd ever find love again until I met you. The moment you welcomed us into Lakeview Manor, I knew we'd share something only two people in love could share. From our morning chats to our afternoon rituals, I always looked forward to seeing you. Now, as we start our life together, I only hope I can be a good wife to you. In the mornings when you leave for work and in the evenings when you come home, I'll be there waiting with open arms and a warm cup of tea. I love you, Barry."

Logan nodded approvingly. "May I have the rings, please?" With an outstretched hand, Logan accepted the wedding bands from Mrs. Hatch. The one for Barry was a big plain gold band and the one for Miss Sarah was dainty with a little diamond stud on the top.

Logan handed the smaller ring to Barry. Barry smiled and slid the dainty ring on Miss Sarah's ring finger. "With this ring, I thee wed…"

Logan handed the bigger ring to Miss Sarah. She anxiously slid it on Barry's ring finger. "With this ring, I thee wed…"

The wedding bands glistened in the sun reflected off the lake. The entire wedding was silent, some on the edge of their seats. Logan heard a few birds tweeting nearby and he looked off the side to see Reavie relaxing under a bush with one of the resident strays. He thought he saw this cat wearing a scarf, but ignored it while vowing not to drink wine before weddings anymore. Logan cleared his throat and put his attention back on Barry and Miss Sarah.

"By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Albion and its Royal Family, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Logan stepped back from the altar as Barry lifted Miss Sarah's veil, revealing her tear stained cheeks. Everyone was waiting now. Logan decided to end the suspense. "Everyone, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Barry Hatch." Logan smiled and winked at Barry. "You may now kiss the bride."

Barry and Miss Sarah kissed as the crowd stood and cheered loudly. Mrs. Hatch burst into happy tears as Barry and Miss Sarah ran down the aisle to flower petals and seeds being thrown at them. The procession followed, shielding themselves from the barrage of seeds and petals being thrown. Logan stayed at the altar, pleased with his job. He had found his peace and was happy at last. He had an important job now and though he considered this wedding practice, he knew his calling.

Reaver shooed everyone into the garden for the wedding feast and dancing. He stopped Rosie first. "Rosie, you said you'd have your answer for me…" he whispered.

"My answer is in your office." She shouted over all the excitement. Rosie ran after the guests before the Guest had a chance to approach them. Reaver looked at the man curiously as he slowly made his way toward the garden.

In the garden, a happy reunion of sorts was taking place. Gordon, Beryl, Rosie, and Willa shook hands with their former circus friends. Willa, with big tears in her eyes, ran to one guest in particular. "Daddy!" she shouted through happy tears, jumping into the arms of a very big muscular man. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

Willa's father, Olaf, held his daughter tight. "Idiot Ringleader sold me off to slavers. I escaped and spent years looking for you, Wilhelmina. Man named Geoffrey was in town I was staying at said he was on his way to his sister's wedding and searching for her old circus friends. He looked familiar and I asked him who sister was. He said her name was Sarah and I knew it was Miss Sarah from the picture he showed me. I show him old flyer to prove I knew her and he invited me along. I'm glad to see promise was kept." Olaf looked over at Rosie, who only nodded to the strongman as he put his daughter down. "Now, let us sit and eat. After food, you tell Papa what you've been up to."

Everyone sat in the garden, gossiping and catching up when Barry and Miss Sarah walked in. "Everyone, the happy couple is here!" Reaver shouted, tapping his fork on a champagne glass. Everyone stood up and cheered the two made their way to the big table containing the cake. As the food was served, Reaver handed Barry a knife. "Cut the damn cake, we're starving!" he shouted, sitting in his chair.

Someone had brought a photo-box and was taking pictures. Pictures of the ceremony and the reception were popping out of the new-fangled machine. Barry, his hand on Miss Sarah's, guided the knife through the bottom layer of the big cake. Barry took half the slice and fed it to Miss Sarah, and she did the same. The crowd cheered as the two sat down at the big table near the rose bushes. Champagne was served and as everyone ate, Reaver stood up. He tapped the champagne glass with his fork and got everyone's attention. "Speech time, lovely guests!"

Barry hid his face in his hand as Reaver stood up. "Hatch came into my employ many years ago. How long ago, I forget. In that time, he's shown to be more than capable to handle whatever craziness I throw his way. If not for him, I'm sure Lakeview would have burned down by now. He's kept my budget, my schedule, and my home in working order for years. But now, I'm sad to say, it's time for him to begin his new life with the lovely Miss Sarah. If there is anyone more deserving of this lovely lady's affection, I dare him to stand up and face my Dragonstomper!" Reaver pulled out his gun and aimed it at the sky with one leg on the table. As the crowd panicked, he looked down at Barry, who hadn't taken his eyes off his new wife. Reaver smiled and put his gun away. "Hatch, you're a stronger man than I. You're the best damn assistant a man can ask for and quite frankly, the closest thing I've had to a friend in many years." Reaver raised his glass. "Hatch, to you and Miss Sarah: Many happy years to both of you."

Everyone raised their glasses in a toast. "Does the crazy man in hat always take out gun during special occasion?" Olaf asked, looking at his daughter.

"You should see him at funerals." mumbled Beryl, taking a sip of her champagne.

Soon, it was time for the big dance. As the music started, Barry took Miss Sarah's hand and directed her to the center of the garden. Reaver did the same with Rosie, as traditionally the best man and maid of honor have a dance as well. While all eyes were on Barry and Miss Sarah, Reaver's eyes were on Rosie. Rosie looked unsure and a little panicked. She didn't look Reaver in the eyes and kept glancing over at a certain guest that made himself right at home at the end of one of the tables.

The Guest smiled at Rosie, raising his glass to her with a crinkled smile. Rosie looked away. "Rosie, do try to keep in step. You've almost stepped on my feet three times." Reaver whispered, stepping in time with the rhythm of the band. Reaver smiled down at Rosie, but she made no gesture. "So, how soon will you and I be doing this dance again?" he asked. Rosie didn't answer. Her eyes were on the Guest, who hadn't taken his eyes off her, either.

After the dance, when everyone decided to mingle, Rosie found herself alone. She watched as Miss Sarah introduced Barry to all of their old circus friends and smiled happily. The reunion was bittersweet for Rosie, though. While she was happy to see that everyone was okay and escaped the "accident" that occurred two years prior, there was one reunion she wasn't looking forward to. Rosie got up from her chair and started for the garden gate. Ben Finn, who knew virtually no one there save for Reaver's lot, Elliot, and the Queen, got up and started for the gate as well.

Olaf grabbed Ben Finn before he could chase after Rosie, to which she was thankful. Ben kept trying to ease himself away from the strongman but found it hard during his loud, raucous, one-sided conversation. Willa huffed at her father. "Daddy, let him go!" she shouted.

"Tell me, Soldier Boy, what do you do as profession?" Olaf asked, Ben being held with one hand and a beer mug in the other.

"I…I recently retired from balverine hunting, and I'm thinking of doing some traveling mercenary work again." said Ben, trying to escape from Olaf's tough grasp.

"Good man, good money in it. Tell me, have you thought about marrying? My Wilhelmina needs good husband to look after her in case something happens to me again!" Olaf laughed.

"Daddy!" Willa shouted, visibly embarrassed. Ben had lost sight of Rosie, but saw the unknown Guest leaving the garden through the gate. He didn't put two and two together, as his only thought at the moment was escaping the strongman's grasp and getting a big gulp of fresh air.

Rosie rushed to the front of the manor, where the wedding ceremony had been held. The sun was setting and darkness was coming. It was setting too fast for Rosie's liking. She felt chilly, despite the warm weather and tried to warm her arms. She could still hear the party going on in the garden, but everything went almost totally silent when the Guest appeared behind her.

"I'm glad I finally got you alone, my dear." said the Guest, with a smirk.

"So, you finally found me." Rosie didn't face the Guest. She didn't want to. She knew who he was, which made her angry. "Took you long enough. I guess being stopped by everyone here for one reason or another is to blame. It's pretty obvious you don't belong at this wedding. You stick out like a sore thumb."

The guest only smiled. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pocket watch. Each of his mannerisms reminded Rosie too much of Reaver. It was the main reason Rosie didn't like being too close to her boss at any given time. Rosie turned around and faced the guest, who put away his pocket watch and pulled out a fancy cigarette case.

"Smoking is bad for you." said Rosie.

The Guest smiled and put one in his mouth anyway. "If the bowels of the Underworld can't kill me, a harmless cigarette won't even put a dint in me." He chuckled, lighting the cigarette with a small flame that came from nowhere. He puffed blue smoke up into the air, watching it drift toward the star filled sky and looked down at Rosie as if she were a child. Rosie may have been tall, but the Guest easily towered over her. She didn't seem moved by the Guest and stayed where she was. "Of course, you were probably the only one out of all the 'underlings' that actually cared about my health."

Rosie chuckled. "I see you're still calling them that." Rosie mumbled. "I know time is meaningless to you, so I guess there's no rush, is there?" Rosie crossed her arms. "Let's hear it."

"Hear what?" The Guest asked, puffing more smoke into the air.

"Your reason for being here, of all places." Rosie didn't move. "You know as well as I do that there is nothing for you on this plain of existence. You can come and go freely yet you still come here. You crash a wedding, nearly run off with the groom's mother, and you've caused confusion all day. Not your usual troublemaking, but I guess even you wouldn't outgrow being a child."

The Guest flicked his cigarette and only grinned at Rosie. "Disrespectful, just as always. I don't know why I thought any different of you. You have too much of your mother in you. Your pitiful mortal body is only a mask to the greatness buried deep within. This world is not worthy of you and yet you decided to stay. At least now you're being paid to be used. Might as well put my gift to you to good use, am I right? The only thing that ties me to you and you exploit it for profit for years at that dingy circus. Tell me: when did the Gypsies realize they couldn't use you anymore?"

Rosie just stood there. The Guest didn't seem to be finished. He flicked his half smoked cigarette into the nearby dirt. "When did they realize they had more than just a wayward seer on their hands? When did they realize you were more of a threat than a gift? When you left, did they even bother to chase after you to get you back? When did they realize you weren't like the Hooded One in the Spire?"

Rosie growled and faced this guest. "My destiny is my own!" she shouted, her eyes glowing. "I wasn't about to be used by those Gypsies or by that circus and certainly not by you!"

The Guest snarled. "You watch your tongue, missy! You forget who you're addressing!"

Rosie calmed down, though she wasn't sure if it was for herself or the Guest. Like a child being punished for talking back, Rosie just stood there, glowering at the Guest. The Guest folded his arms and the same grin returned to his face.

"Now, is that anyway to address your father?" The Guest cooed mockingly. "I just had to check up on my little girl to see how she was doing. Can you blame me for that? For loving my daughter enough to come to this wretched plain to make sure she was alright?"

Letting a disbelieving chuckle escape her lips, Rosie looked up at the Guest. "You didn't come here to check on me. You came here to convince me to come back. You know you can't force me to go back, it'd be against the rules. You and the other 'Underlings' as you call my half-siblings aren't any more worried about me than you would be about a fly. It's been made clear to me time and time again that I'm not wanted there, so I came here. I made my own way as my mother did before she had the misfortune of meeting and falling in love with an omnipotent demon with control issues."

The Guest looked offended, but this wasn't the first time Rosie had mouthed off to him. Her gaze, a piercing gaze that would forever remind him of her mother, let him know it certainly wouldn't be the last. He knew arguing with her was fruitless, but he still enjoyed it nonetheless. "So, what is it you're calling yourself now, my dear? Rosie? How adorable. I guess you didn't appreciate the name I gave you."

"I do appreciate it." Rosie contested. "I just don't like it. I prefer the name my mother gave me. Easier for 'foolish mortals' as you call them to pronounce. I don't need that name to remind me of you. I have your 'gift' to remind me of you and where I never intend to go back to."

The Guest huffed. "You're just lucky that me taking away that 'gift' would kill you or I'd take it away right now." The Guest walked up to Rosie, who turned away from him. He put his hand on her shoulder, lovingly stroking her upper arm and attempting a fatherly smile. "Let's not fight, today is a happy day. Your best friend just got married and…" The Guest suddenly stopped when he heard a disturbance behind them. He could feel something almost as unholy as he was eavesdropping. "I can feel the presence of the Shadow Court…but not on you…" he mumbled to Rosie.

"I'm not foolish enough to attempt a bargain with them." Rosie mumbled as the Guest turned around.

Reaver made his presence known, though he stood a few feet away. "So, this is where you ran off to." Reaver growled, staring the Guest down. "You certainly did a nice job crashing Hatch and Miss Sarah's wedding and for not getting caught, I commend you. Now, who the hell are you and why are you still here?"

The Guest smiled evilly and fixed his sleeves. "Ahh, is this the man that offered you a life of pampering and luxury if you just signed on the dotted line?" he asked.

Rosie turned to glare at the Guest. "How did-"

"You're the daughter of an omnipotent demon. I'd fail as an all-powerful being and a father if I didn't know what was going on in your life. It wasn't easy finding out, either. There is a barrier of some kind draping this world and it's no easy feat getting here." The Guest chuckled and walked towards Reaver. "So, you're the one that wants to marry my Rosie?" The Guest looked Reaver over, but didn't look impressed. He stood up straight as if smelling something foul. "You are marked with years of bargaining with the Shadow Court. It's all over you. I can see the blood of many innocents staining you and the smell is foul. You are a tainted man and you have no intention of stopping. I must say, I'm impressed. But not impressed enough to approve of any type of union between you and Rosie."

Reaver raised his eyebrows. "Your approval?" Reaver laughed. "It has been many, many, years since I've needed anyone's approval to do anything, my good man. I certainly don't need the approval of a wedding crasher who, by the way, has yet to actually leave!" Reaver, ignoring the guest entirely, walked over to Rosie and started to reach for her hand. "Now, my dear, let's get back to the party. Hatch and Miss Sarah are about to leave for their honeymoon and-"

Before Reaver could finish his sentence, the Guest knocked him out of the way into a nearby stone wall with such strength and power that Reaver literally didn't know what hit him. Rosie gasped and started to run to him but was blocked by the Guest. "Listen to Daddy, my dear…" he murmured angrily, while taking Rosie and holding her close with one arm. "…come back with me. There is no place for you here, now."

Rosie shook her head and left the Guest's grip. Before anything else could happen, a shot from Reaver's gun rang out. The bullet barely grazed the Guest's nose, but it got his attention. The Guest looked over and watched Reaver stagger to get up while pointing his gun dead at him. "Get…away from her!" Reaver snarled.

The Guest smiled and stepped back, but his gaze let Reaver know he wasn't conceding to the likes of him. He watched as Rosie ran to Reaver to help him stand up completely.

The Guest snarled at this. "I can take a hint. I'll leave. But know this and know it well, you tainted fop: Your immortality is only based on age. You may not give way to time, but you can still get hurt and die like any other pitiful mortal. You'll never be good enough for her, no matter what twisted deals you make with the Shadow Court. You're a disgusting mortal and I'll never accept you as my son-in-law. It takes a certain power to be a part of this family and that's something that will forever elude you. I forbid this union and I will not allow you to join our family. You have no honor and will bring only shame and destruction. That's all you've ever done."

The Guest stood still and waited for the clouds to part. "I'll be back to check on you again, Rosie. And remember…" What could only be described as a rip in the very fabric of time and space opened under the Guest and he started to descend into the ground. "…Daddy loves you…"

With that, the Guest was gone. Reaver stood up straight and noticed his right arm was pounding painfully. He ignored the pain for now and focused on Rosie, who stood in her spot motionless. Reaver staggered over to her and looked down at her. His gaze wasn't that of a boss looking at his employee, though. He couldn't believe the sounds he heard from Rosie. He couldn't believe the tears running down Rosie's cheeks, either. Rosie was crying!

Reaver took Rosie with his good arm and held her close to him. It was comforting, to say the least. "Well, this solves a little of the mystery surrounding you, Rosie. Yet it raises many, many, more questions. Care to tell me what in Avo's name is going on?"

He didn't receive an answer. Rosie, her hand over her eyes, ran back toward the garden. Reaver sighed and remembered what Rosie had told him earlier about her answer. He didn't bother to go back to the party, which he knew he could see from his office window.

Rosie returned to the party as Barry and Miss Sarah were waving good-bye to everyone. The carriage to take them to the train station and off to their honeymoon was waiting. Rosie must have missed when they went back inside to change into regular clothes because now they were dressed like they were ready to travel. Miss Sarah still had her bouquet in hand. Rosie stood next to the others; the crowd was strangely mute to her as she watched the events.

She knew all of this. She knew, but she said nothing. "…did you hear me, Rosie?" Beryl asked, shaking Rosie out of her trance. Rosie looked down at Beryl. "I said earlier today I got a letter in the mail from my grandparents. I didn't want to say anything because today is Miss Sarah's day. My grandparents are retiring and they are leaving the vineyard and the farm to me!" Beryl shouted over the cheers of the crowd. Rosie smiled, nodding to Beryl. "They want me to take over as soon as I'm able to and Gordon said he'd come help me since he knows so much about plants. Miss Sarah isn't the only one leaving now!"

Rosie felt the crowd go mute again. Everything was happening just as she saw it would. She had no need to worry about her friends anymore. She thought she heard Beryl say something about asking Olaf and some of their old circus friends to work at the vineyard while she got used to the place and wondering what she'd do with her two troublesome sisters, who still lived on the farm. Rosie was barely listening to any of this as people threw seeds at Barry and Miss Sarah as they waved on their way to the carriage awaiting them.

"Ready?" Miss Sarah shouted, holding her bouquet up. All the women shrieked loudly, reaching for the bouquet that had yet to be thrown. Many hands reached for the bouquet as Miss Sarah tossed it up in the air, aiming for no one in particular. Everything went slow, the seeds still being thrown as the bouquet fell. The bouquet was like a volley ball, being bounced back and forth from grabbing hands. A badly aimed hand bounced the bouquet out of everyone's grasp and toward its unsuspecting victim.

The bouquet landed in Rosie's hands. She just stared at it as the gaggle of women laughed and some of the men made sure their breath were fresh. Rosie just stared at the bouquet as Barry and Miss Sarah boarded the carriage. They waved to everyone with big smiles.

"Don't forget to come back with my grandchildren!" Mrs. Hatch shouted, causing both Barry and Miss Sarah to blush.

Barry looked at his bride and took her hand. "Ready, Mrs. Hatch?" he asked, directed the "Mrs. Hatch" at his wife.

"With you, I'm always ready, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah cooed as Barry kissed her cheek. They waved as they got into the carriage with "JUST MARRIED" taped to the back. The driver started down the path. The crowd waved as the carriage disappeared toward Bowerstone with Barry, Miss Sarah, and their luggage.

Mrs. Hatch wiped a few tears from her eyes and turned around to see the crowd dissipate. Soon, the guests were gone, the servants had started the clean-up, and Mrs. Hatch stood by the gate. She smiled and started walking back to Lakeview Manor. Mrs. Hatch was surprised to see Willa leaving the manor, accompanying her father. Mrs. Hatch blushed as they came close to her. "Oh, Mrs. Hatch! I had thought you'd gone back inside. Have you met my father?"

Olaf extended his hand to Mrs. Hatch and took hers gently. "Olaf, pleasure to meet mother of groom." He said, his accent very pronounced.

"Mrs. Bernadette Hatch…" Mrs. Hatch mumbled, blushing like a teenager.

"Mrs.? I see no ring," Olaf teased, holding Mrs. Hatch's hand up.

"I'm a widow. My Bertram died when Barry was five." She giggled, slowly taking her hand back.

Olaf smiled at Mrs. Hatch. He was taller than her, yet she didn't shrink at his presence. He already liked her. "I'm a widower. Wilhelmina's mother was tiny woman, very sickly. I miss her every day." Olaf sighed and smiled as he waved to Willa. "I'll be at inn in town, Wilhelmina. Come visit your Papa while I'm in town! We have much catching up to do!" Olaf winked at Mrs. Hatch as he left.

Mrs. Hatch could feel how hot her cheeks were getting. "Mrs. Hatch, are you alright?" Willa asked. Mrs. Hatch put her hands to her cheeks and walked toward the garden. Willa giggled and ran back toward the house to finish the clean-up.

One thing Mrs. Hatch didn't expect to see so late at night was Rosie in the garden. She was standing there, holding the bouquet as if she hadn't moved since Barry and Miss Sarah left. Mrs. Hatch ran to Rosie and helped her to a nearby stone bench. "Rosie, are you alright?" she asked, her blushing cheeks softening.

Rosie looked up at Mrs. Hatch, her eyes were puffy and pink from what looked like crying. "Mrs. Hatch…" she whispered, grasping the bouquet tightly. Rosie didn't say anything else. Mrs. Hatch wrapped her arms around Rosie, who started to sob furiously. The bouquet fell to the ground with a soft pat.

_**Inside Lakeview Manor, in Reaver's Office**_

Reaver stood by his window. What was this feeling in his chest? Why was it happening now? What was going on? He had never felt tightness like this in chest. It wasn't like anything he had ever felt before. He looked out on Millfields and pondered what to do next.

Barry was gone, so he couldn't call him in for advice. For once, Reaver would have welcomed Barry's sappy rambling about love, life, and how he wouldn't know what he'd do without Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah wasn't down in the kitchen, so he couldn't call her to make him a midnight snack to think things over with. He didn't glance at his desk. While he expected this, he was truly ready for what he found. His heart pounded with a mixture of unsureness and humiliation.

The lights of the region gave him little comfort. Couples sitting down in their beds, discussing their day and making plans for the next was what he imagined. It was something he loathed and desired at the same time but it was also very foreign. What was this he was feeling? Why did this affect him so much? No, this wasn't the end, not by a long shot. Reaver still had some fight left in him and now his opponent was more powerful than he ever could have imagined.

But how could he fight with this tightness in his chest. Of all the things that could affect him, why was it that this was the most crippling? Why did it feel like his heart had been ripped out and thrown against the wall to die a bleeding death? Why did he care so much?

Beside Reaver's desk, in a steel mesh trash bin, sat Rosie's answer.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi, hi, my doves! It's finally finished!<strong>

**This chapter, I mean. The story itself still has two more chapters to go, but this chapter is finally done! I'm finally done with this chapter. A lot has happened over the course of this chapter. My own heart has been ripped out which made the ending a little harder for me to write. I had…a secret admirer over the course of writing this. He said he was from my past and he thought about me every day. I was so flattered and happy I couldn't stand it. Someone thought about me every day. Someone was thinking about me…**

**It was wonderful. Until I found out whom it was. He was from my past alright, but he was a jerk and…well, check out my tumblr and my deviantArt journal for more information.**

**So, how did I do? TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME! Leave a review and tell me if it was worth the wait. I have a ton of other stories planned but I wanted to finish this one first. I have another BioShock fic planned and a Welcome to Night Vale one shot in the works.**

**I CAN'T TAKE THE EXCITEMENT! REVIEW MY CHAPTER! Are you as happy for Barry and Miss Sarah as I am? And what's this? The mystery of Rosie unravels…**

**Be sure to visit me on tumblr! I go by LunaPeachieLovesYou and I do love you!**

**Read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**

**The Guest belongs to my good friend robowarrior01908. He's known as Oraix hehe.**


	39. Goodbye, Lakeview Manor

_Reaver's Servants_

Goodbye, Lakeview Manor

The view from the top of the stairs wasn't as grand as Reaver had remembered it. When he first had Lakeview Manor built, he had made sure that every spot had a good view. The landing at the top of the stairs, he had often found, had a particularly wonderful view of the foyer and the front doors. From this landing he could see who had arrived, whether or not the servants were actually working, or how clean the marble tile floors were. His voice echoed nicely from this vantage point and the echoes carried his orders to his servants much better than screaming.

But today, Reaver found, this view did nothing for him. But it wasn't the view itself, it was what he was viewing. On the foyer floor, there were boxes with labels on each one to tell the mover which goes where at its new destination. The destination, of course, was in a sleepy mountain town called Brightwall. Where it was going exactly in the sleepy mountain town was debatable. From what most found out, if they had bothered to ask, most of the boxes were going into storage until a permanent home could be found. Luckily, no one bothered to ask.

The wedding between Barry Hatch and Miss Sarah had ended over a month ago but it was still in Reaver's mind as if it had happened last week. The decorations were taken down, the food had been divided up and taken home with guests, and Reaver felt the house empty out like a bag of grain with a hole in the bottom. The garden had been rearranged to its form before the wedding and if one looked closely, they'd doubt there had been a wedding at all.

Despite the wedding being between two servants, it was the talk of Millfields and Bowerstone for the longest time. Though Reaver had hoped for that outcome, he wasn't prepared for the fallout. He wasn't prepared to lose the best cook and the best assistant he'd had in years. That is why Reaver did not care for the view from the landing today. The boxes meant two people were leaving his employ and even more miraculous, they were leaving alive.

Of course, Reaver wasn't the only somber party in Lakeview Manor. Plans were being made all around him and he had no say in it. Though it came as news to him after Barry and Miss Sarah had left, Reaver had a feeling that things were changing again. Not only was he losing his assistant and cook, but he found out he was losing the rest of his staff as well.

Beryl had been appointed representative since the letter came for her. The others only saw it as fair that she break the news to Reaver. The night that Reaver had received his answer from Rosie, which sat in the mesh trash can by his desk in his office, Beryl informed Reaver of the letter she had received.

_Dear Beryl,_

_Hello from the vineyard! I know you're assuming we are writing to ask you to visit us. While that would be nice, Gran and I are writing because we have come to a decision. This Vineyard and Winery has been in the family for generations. Your great-great-grandparents built this farm from nothing into a thriving business that has continued for years. However, Gran and I aren't as young as we used to be and the years have not been kind to us health wise. We have decided to retire and since you were to inherit the vineyard anyway, we're giving it to you, Beryl dear. That's right, the entire vineyard and winery is yours. All you have to do is come by and we'll sign everything over._

_The other reason we are writing is because your sisters don't seem to share our enthusiasm with this plan. Fiona and Fiore insisted, since they stayed when you left to seek your calling elsewhere, that they should get the farm. If either of them had done any real work in your absence, maybe they would have been considered. But you are the oldest and it would have gone to you anyway. Those twins couldn't run down the road to get sugar let alone run a farm._

_Beryl, I know life has been tough since your parents died. Gran and I both knew you'd set out when you were old enough. You have too much of your father in you. When your father first came to work on our farm after his circus went under, we didn't know what to make of him. We miss both of your parents very much and we miss you as well. It's time to come home, Beryl. We await your reply._

_~Love, Gran and Gramps_

That was the letter Beryl let Reaver read. When she told him that she was leaving to take over the vineyard and that Willa and Gordon were coming with her, Reaver only mumbled that he didn't know Beryl had two younger sisters that were twins. He then crumbled the letter into a little ball and tossed it at her. It had hit her softly in the middle of her forehead.

Now, he was losing all of his servants. He didn't have to fire (or murder) anyone. Soon, his house would be empty again. There was a stack of applications for a new personal assistant sitting on his desk that hadn't been touched and he was set for interviews with new staff that afternoon. Reaver wondered about the order in which his servants would leave.

Barry and Miss Sarah had returned from their honeymoon a few days before and everyone was so happy to see the newlyweds. Mostly everyone, anyway. Reaver ignored them unless there was something that needed to be done.

The agreement, which had been made before the wedding, was that Barry hire replacements before leaving. Reaver always put Barry in charge of tasks he thought were menial. Hire new servants being one of them. Barry felt no real need to do this, as he suddenly felt no real connection to Lakeview Manor anymore. While Barry was busy doing that, Miss Sarah saw fit to pack up their things. She had started right after she brought Reaver his lunch. He didn't say anything to her when she presented the delicious salad with homemade dressing on his desk next to the untouched applications.

Despite her and Barry being the first scheduled to leave, Miss Sarah and Barry were the last ones to pack up their belongings from Lakeview Manor. She was excited, but nervous. She knew in the morning, after sending their luggage ahead, she and Barry would be on the train to the mountains where Barry's mother would be waiting for them. Miss Sarah spent a long time packing up her room in the servant's quarters, going through every item that brought back a memory.

Everyone was busy doing something or another. Willa and Beryl, while cleaning, discussed different ways they would run the vineyard. While Beryl was stuck in the business end of it, Willa was stuck in something a little deeper. Willa was excited about being with her father again. Beryl offered him a job at the vineyard and Olaf the Strongman readily accepted. If it meant being near Willa and a steady pay, then Olaf was ready for anything. At the moment, Olaf was a semi-permanent resident at the pub in Bowerstone and the tavern owner was eager to see him leave.

Despite Reaver's objections, Olaf was also at the manor during much of the day. He'd sit his dusty jacket on a marble bench and brush off his dirty pants before sitting down and wait for Willa to be done with her chores. Reaver agreed to let Olaf hang around, but only outside. He'd made that rule after Olaf came into the manor a few days after the wedding trailing mud on his clean floors. Reaver didn't like Olaf dirtying up his property, but he also didn't like the idea of his head being squished under the man's massive hands.

On this day, of all days, Olaf was once again in the garden. He was keeping company with Gordon until Willa came out. Gordon had nothing to say lately, despite how close he and Olaf were when they worked together in the circus. Gordon wasn't doing impressive acrobatics lately, either.

"Gordon, not so light on feet anymore?" Olaf asked, holding a letter in his hand. Gordon didn't answer. "Leaving can be sad, but life outside gilded cage can be nice. Beryl is putting you in charge of keeping plants from dying, good money in that."

"I'm not worried about the money, I have no doubt Beryl will pay us fairly." Gordon mumbled, stepping down from a trellis. "I'm worried about the others."

"Liar." Olaf laughed. "You're worried about Rosie."

Gordon sighed and put his clippers down. "Rosie and I have been friends for years. I accepted a long time ago that we would probably never be anything more than just that. That doesn't mean I don't care about her. Beryl offered her a job at the vineyard but she refused. Said she was leaving on some kind of 'spiritual journey' or some such nonsense." Gordon picked up his clippers again and started working on another bush.

"Spiritual journey is not nonsense. It makes sense to Rosie, so let her. Rosie is not like us, Gordy. Driven by spirits of old world. Rosie is not like other women. Rosie walks path that only she can see. As seer, it is her lot in life. Rosie has much on her mind. When she is ready, her stone will stop rolling and she'll stop somewhere. Rosie is smart woman. She make one lucky man a good wife someday."

Gordon chuckled. "Yeah, some lucky sap is going to get more than he bargained for with her."

Olaf laughed as the garden gate opened. Willa and Beryl, done with their daily chores, walked toward the two men as Gordon put down his clippers again. "Daddy!" Willa shouted, running to Olaf. Olaf stood up and held his arms out to catch his daughter. She tackled him and he fell with a loud "Oof!" to the ground. The letter he was holding fell to Beryl's feet, though she didn't notice right away.

"Everything is set." said Beryl, as Olaf and Willa got off the ground. "On Miss Sarah's advice, we sent everything ahead all our heavy luggage. If we hire a carriage, we should be at the farm in two days with our luggage waiting for us upon arrival. My grandparents are going to sign over everything to me when we arrive and then they are leaving for…wherever they decided to retire to." Beryl shrugged and giggled as Olaf and Willa walked up to her.

Olaf sighed happily. "Beryl, thank you for offering me job."

"No sweat, Olaf." Beryl readjusted her glasses a bit before taking them off and wiping them off on her apron. She put them back on. "I'll need someone to keep an eye on those two troublemakers I call sisters. I can't tell you how much trouble they've caused my poor grandparents over the years. Probably why they are taking an early retirement. It won't hurt to have someone who can lift a cart full of bricks over his head with little effort working around the farm, either."

"Only bricks? You're getting old, Olaf." said a voice from the direction of the garden gate. Everyone looked up and saw Rosie walking toward them. "I remember when your caravan got stuck in the mud, you lifted it out and carried it to dry ground." Rosie had an odd chuckle, but it was refreshing to the others to see her smile for once.

Olaf stretched his arms out. "Not so old I can't lift you off ground, Rosie." He laughed. "Come to join discussion?"

Rosie shook her head. "I actually came back here to find Beryl. Mr. Hatch is busy with interviews so I answered the door. Beryl has visitors."

Beryl blinked. "Visitors?" she looked around. "I didn't invite anyone here. Everyone I know knows we're leaving soon." Beryl started for the garden, unknowingly kicking Olaf's letter toward Willa.

Noticing is for the first time, Willa bent over and picked up the letter. "Daddy, did you drop this?" she asked, examining the postmark on the edge of the envelope. It was addressed to Olaf (staying at the Cock in the Crown) and the postmark was from Brightwall. Willa almost immediately recognized the handwriting. "Daddy, have you been exchanging letters with Mrs. Hatch?" she asked, wide-eyed.

His big stubbly cheeks blushing, Olaf took the letter back and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. "We met at wedding, remember? We've been corresponding, yes. Nice lady…"

"Are those lipstick marks on the…" Gordon didn't finish his sentence. Olaf turned and left the garden before anyone could ask anything else.

Willa huffed. "If Mr. Hatch ends up being my step-brother, I'm going to be very mad." She mumbled, folding her arms over her chest.

At the front of the house, Beryl saw two familiar figures standing before the big door. She hated what she saw, because she knew it could only be two people. Same height, some skin tone, and the same look that said _"we're here to screw things up". _

Fiona and Fiore were twins and Beryl's younger sisters. The two had mousy brown hair and freckles on their cheeks just under their eyes just like Beryl. They often finished each other's sentences and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. They were never too far from each other and they were always in trouble at the same time as well. Their sister, or anyone acquainted with them for that matter, didn't think highly of the two and was pretty sure they shared one single brain between the two of them. Fiona was the headstrong one and Fiore was the clever one, meaning Fiore came up with the bad ideas so Fiona could implement them.

"What are you two doing here?" Beryl asked, not actually wanting to know.

"Is that anyone to greet your baby sisters?" asked Fiona. Fiona wore a pink hair band in her hair.

"We were hoping for a better reception." said Fiore. Fiore wore a green hair band in her hair.

"When Gran and Gramps told us you left that circus…" Fiona started.

"We actually got quite worried about you." Fiore finished. "Imagine how relieved we were to find out you and your friends got jobs again. However, we never imagined you…"

"…and don't take this the wrong, dear sister; we never imagined you as a maid for the dreadful Reaver of Reaver Industries!" Fiona shouted.

"Of all the places you could have gotten work…" Fiore was stopped by Beryl's hand. A silent move telling the two to shut up before they went off on a tangent.

Beryl sighed. "I don't have time to babysit you two. I have a lot to do before I leave tomorrow. If you want entertainment, go to the pub." Beryl started walking past the two, as if they were solicitors trying to sell her something she didn't need. Of course, Beryl stopped for a moment and turned to the two. "How did you two get here, anyway? I was under the understanding that you two would still be at the vineyard looking for excuses not to work."

Fiona and Fiore shared the same nervous giggle. "Well, that's the thing." said Fiona, wringing her hands. "Gram and Gramps might have…sort of…"

"…kicked us out." Fiore finished.

Beryl didn't look surprised. She was wondering what had finally made her grandparents snap. "They finally threw you two out on the streets, hmm? All that shoddy work you did around the vineyard finally caught up with you two. How long did you think Gran and Gramps were going to let all that slide?" she asked. "I guess you'll have to find somewhere else to be useless. If you think I'm going to let you stay at the farm and get away with terrible work ethic, you're mistaken."

Both sisters looked at their sister nervously. "No, no, Gran and Gramps made it quite clear that if we ever returned to that farm, they'd set it ablaze whether it belonged to them or not. We're not above hard work, but farm work is so thankless." Fiona remarked.

"We are more than willing to work for our wages. But the thing of it is, we've burned through the last of what Gran and Gramps gave us just by getting here. We're staying at the pub right now, but we're almost out of money." Fiore retorted.

Beryl sighed and crossed her arms. "I guess it's up to big sister to clean up another one of your messes. It so happens I know where you can get some jobs and room and board as well." Beryl walked toward the front of the house. "Let me talk to someone and I'll send for you two later."

Inside the manor, the only sound that could be heard were the soft grunts of a woman trying to fit a lot of things into one little suitcase. Miss Sarah had some time to herself before she was due to make dinner, so she was packing up her room. She remembered when she and the others first came to Lakeview Manor. The rooms, though small, still became home to them. When she had arrived, Miss Sarah's room was just a bed, a night stand, and a closet. Now, it was decorated with pictures, little nick-knacks, and smelled like sweet pea flowers. The other rooms were like this, too. In the course of a year and a half, the dank rooms looked as if its inhabitants had been there for much longer.

The days had passed by so quickly. It felt like yesterday that the would-be servants were standing in front of the big manor doors, hoping the jobs were still available. As she smiled at this memory, Miss Sarah reached under her bed and found her old steamer trunk. After they had settled in, Reaver was nice enough to have the servant's things sent for. He took it out of their pay, though. She opened her steamer trunk on a whim, and smiled at its contents.

The clothes she had made them after they left the circus were in there. After their second pay allowed them to buy new clothes, the servants requested that Miss Sarah do away with the ugly outfits. Even she admitted that the clothes she had made from old circus tents and old costumes were atrocious. She made a note to throw them out when she put them in the steamer trunk. Miss Sarah had forgotten about them until just now. She took out the dress that was hers, made from her old magician's assistant outfit and the magician's cape she swiped the night they left.

Memories poured into Miss Sarah's mind as she picked up each garment and sniffed it. It smelled just like the inn they were staying at before they came to live at the mansion. Memories of light dinners, thin sheets, trying to keep warm in the drafty rooms, and each one hoping the next day would yield something better.

Miss Sarah carefully placed the outfits back in the steamer trunk. She hadn't decided if she was going to throw them out or not. The contents of her nightstand drawer, however, were definitely not being thrown away. These items were too precious to her. Miss Sarah opened the drawer and took out a small box. Inside the box was a collection of papers and other odds and ends that she felt were special. On top was the very flyer that led them to Lakeview Manor, and in turn led her to Barry.

"_To anyone interested:_

_Reaver of Reaver Industries will be holding interviews for jobs in and around his home by Bower Lake._

_In need are the following positions: maids, butlers, grounds keepers, chefs._

_No experience needed, but recommended._

_If hired, employees will be paid generously and provided with room and board._

_Please see Barry Hatch at Lakeview Manor in Millfields for more details._

_Be advised: Those not hired may be shot."_

The flyer by now was wrinkled and the lettering had faded a bit. Miss Sarah straightened a corner and smiled softly. She placed the flyer back in the box and removed the rest of the nightstand's contents for packing. She hoped to have the rest of her room cleared out before the evening. She was going to start preparing for dinner soon.

All the other servants knew Rosie had been avoiding Reaver. Her choice was simple, yet plain as day. Her decision sat in the wastepaper basket by Reaver's desk. Reaver hadn't moved it since the wedding. It sat there, almost mocking him. She told him no, without actually having to say it. It was cowardly, but Reaver respected her originality.

When it came to Rosie, no one actually knew what was going on in her mind. Most people were too scared to think about it. Her expression seemed vapid and her eyes were blank. The others noted that she often took this look when reading someone's fortune. Reaver had begun to wonder how many futures she could actually see. If the future could be changed, can she see the new future? Which future was the one he wanted?

He found himself asking the question most of the day. As lunch was eaten and things were packed, Reaver asked himself about what his future truly held. He decide to let Barry conduct the interviews for a new personal assistant because his mind was elsewhere. If anyone could hire his replacement, it'd be Barry himself.

By now, Reaver believed he knew more about Rosie than he had ever hoped to learn about a maid. After a year of Rosie keeping hush about her life, Reaver now knew why she did so. Reaver would be sitting in his office at this point while thinking about it. All he did recently was think about things.

Barry found this to be inconveniencing. He still had a lot of packing to do and if this kept up, he and Miss Sarah were going to be the last ones to leave. He was starting to think that's what Reaver was really going for. After Barry had conducted the last interview with an applicant, Barry found himself being approached by Beryl. She twisted the feather duster in her hand and looked at him nervously. "Mr. Hatch?" she mumbled, softly.

"What's wrong, Beryl?" Barry asked.

Beryl tried not to giggle at Barry's speech impediment. It was something she had tried to fight since she began working with him. But hearing him say "What's wong, Bear-wool" made her laugh softly. Miss Sarah and the others often said they no longer noticed it, but Beryl couldn't say the same. Hearing him say things like "Sar-wah" and "Woe-zee" and "Mastah Weavah" and even saying her name as best he could were too much for Beryl and she'd sometimes have to run off to laugh in private.

"Nothing is wrong, Mr. Hatch." Beryl had to stop herself from imitating his impediment when saying "wong" instead of "wrong". It's something she caught herself doing many times. She readjusted her glasses and spoke clearly. "I was just wondering if you've hired the new servants yet."

Barry smiled and brushed his hair back with his fingers. "A few, and I still have an interview left for my replacement. Why do you ask? Having second thoughts about leaving?"

Beryl shook her head. "No, not at all. I'm all set to leave tomorrow afternoon if the weather is right. I was asking because I heard from my sisters today. My grandparents finally kicked them out and they need jobs. They're in Bowerstone, staying at the pub. Probably about to get kicked out if I know them as well as I think I do."

Barry remembered that Beryl had two sisters that she rarely talked about. The way she explained their behavior and personalities, Barry couldn't blame her. A pair of twins named Fiona and Fiore were Beryl's younger sisters. Between the two of them, they shared one brain.

"What qualifies them to work for Reaver?" Barry asked.

"They are twins, they have perfect 20/20 vision, and actively look for trouble." Beryl answered dryly.

"They're hired." said Barry, taking out his clipboard and scribbling something down. "If you see them tonight, tell them to come by Lakeview Manor for a proper interview."

Beryl nodded happily and scampered off to finish her chores. By the light coming in from the windows in the foyer, Barry could tell it was already early evening. He hoped by this time tomorrow, he and Miss Sarah would be arriving at the Brightwall station. Barry would be lying if he said he wasn't going to miss the way the sun set over Bower Lake. It was a beautiful view of the cool waters too cold for children to swim in now. The autumn leaves were falling and now resting on the still waters. Barry was going to miss it. He wasn't about to lie about that.

Dinner was silent that night. Reaver took his dinner in his office, not wanting to face his servants. Reaver barely touched the rosemary chicken Miss Sarah had made. He imagined the servants were sitting at the little table in the corner of the kitchen and celebrating at that moment. Their last night with him, as his servants, and they were celebrating. He lingered in his office for a little while longer.

In the kitchen, all the servants sat around the little table and sharing their last meal together. Barry, who usually ate with Reaver, sat next to Miss Sarah with his arm around her. He had just got finished telling Beryl that her sisters didn't look like they could hold a mop, but figured some time working for Reaver would whip them into shape. Rosie was silent, but her smile indicated that she was indeed enjoying the celebration going on.

Gordon stood up, his drink in his hand, and quieted the group down. "I remember when we arrived a year and a half ago." He started, holding his bottle of beer tightly. "Penniless, hungry, wearing sewn together costumes and tent pieces, and eager to do any kind of work. I know I've complained a lot about this job in the past, but I think this has got to be the best job I've ever had!"

"Here, here!" shouted Beryl, holding up her bottle.

Miss Sarah stood up while trying to hold her hiccups down. "I'm glad we were able to stay together." Miss Sarah whimpered. "I'm grateful every day that we got these jobs, but now it feels so sad to be leaving it all behind!" Miss Sarah sat down and Barry patted her back.

Willa stood up next. "Without Mr. Reaver, I fear what would have happened to us. Separated, alone, and with not a gold piece to call our own. Now, we're all about to head out into a new future. I don't think even Rosie could have seen this." Willa chuckled, pointing her bottle at Rosie.

Rosie still said nothing. Everyone chuckled. "It doesn't take a seer to see you all go together that nuts in a fruit salad." Barry laughed, the drink already starting to get to him. "I hope you all will visit Sarah and me in Brightwall as often as you can. I wouldn't dream of keeping you lot apart."

Some laughter, some more conversation, and then silence. Each of the servants reflected on the past year and a half and looked around. It might have been that moment they all realized that, in the morning, they wouldn't be piled into the kitchen eating breakfast before they started their chores. Miss Sarah wouldn't be humming a happy tune and the smell of delicious breakfast wouldn't be wafting through the spacious manor.

It was Miss Sarah, who stood up first. "To Mr. Reaver, for giving us these jobs." She said, tearfully. The statement sounded familiar to them. Each servant, including Barry and Rosie, held up their respective drink and nodded to the toast.

"To Reaver…" they all said before downing their drinks.

Reaver was still in his office as this toast took place. He didn't hear them salute him for what could be passed off as generosity if one knew Reaver well enough. He heard the footsteps of the servants finishing their last night time rituals. He heard Barry's clopping footsteps finishing up the interviews with two new maids he'd mentioned before. Reaver listened to Miss Sarah's tip-tap like steps made their way to Barry's room and eventually, so did Barry.

In the morning, they would all be gone. Why did Reaver have this odd pain in his chest? He hated how this was making him feel. He grabbed his chest and stared out the window. The lights along the lake were going out as the residents of Millfields snuggled into bed. There was one light, however, that Reaver noticed near the dock. It moved in the wind and it called to him. Reaver, forgetting his jacket, left the office and ran toward the front doors.

Reaver swung open the doors and ran to the first stone step toward the docks. Why he was doing this, he didn't know. It felt as if the spirits themselves were guiding him. The wind led the way and the spirits lit the path and directed him to what he believed was his destiny.

Rosie stood at the end of the dock, staring into the water. The water held no answers for her. She didn't invite Reaver outside to join her, but she still turned around as if expecting him. "I won't be here tomorrow to say good-bye." Rosie mumbled, as Reaver noticed her bags by the first pylon of the dock. "I'm leaving soon."

"Leaving?" Reaver asked, as if actually surprised.

Rosie nodded. "I can't be here to say good-bye to my friends. So, I said it to them earlier at dinner. My boat leaves in a few hours. I've decided not to buy a caravan. I'm heading to Aurora."

"Why would you want to go there?" Reaver asked. "It's a desert. It's filthy. You don't belong there."

"And where is it I belong?" Rosie asked. "Shall we have this argument again?"

Reaver snorted and turned his head away. "Go on and leave. I don't care. You've given me your answer, and you're free to leave. See Hatch before you go about your final pay." Reaver turned around and started for the manor again. He turned around at that moment and felt disappointed that Rosie wasn't following him. She stayed in her spot looking out at the lake. Reaver stopped and fumed a bit. Outwardly, he looked like a child not getting his way.

Rosie stood still, as if looking through time itself. She probably was for all Reaver knew.

"What can I say to make you change your mind?" Reaver asked, standing at the beginning of the dock. "What can I offer you that will make you stay here?"

Rosie didn't move. "You still don't get it, do you?" she asked. "If it's taken you this long to know me, then you have nothing to offer me. You only offer me gold and silk, but what can you truly offer me that will convince me that you actually care about me? I can't see your future, Reaver. I can't see it. I can see a few days ahead, but I can't see anything beyond that. Your future will always be uncertain and it is not something I care to be a part of. One minute you offer me the world, the next you'll throw me down a well to appease long dead gods to keep yourself from getting another wrinkle. You're a vain man, but not just in looks. You don't like it when things don't go your way. As children, we learn that life isn't fair. When did you forget that lesson?"

The wind blew Rosie's long black hair at that moment. She still didn't face him. "Is this because of your father?" Reaver asked. Rosie didn't answer. "That man at Hatch and Miss Sarah's wedding was your father and by tradition, a father gives the bride away. He'll never allow our union."

Rosie sighed and looked away. "I stopped caring what my father thought when he let my mother die." She whispered, barely loud enough for Reaver to hear. "I grew up knowing he was watching me, but I never took to time to see where he was watching from. He only cares about power and power is something you'll never have to him. But if you think my refusal to settle for you is based on whether or not an angry omnipotent demon with control issues will tear you apart, you're mistaken. I know how you feel, Reaver. But do you know you feel?"

Reaver didn't answer. Rosie turned around and faced him. Her eyes were blank, showing only the starry sky. "You're a shameful butterfly: you've transformed from some horrible thing to another but with prettier wings so no one will know. You will always be a pirate: you constantly seek treasure without appreciating the fortune you already have. Your path will fork soon. Redemption or perdition. You can only choose once. I suggest you make it count."

Nothing else existed at this point. Only Reaver and Rosie existed now it seemed. "Rosie…" Reaver asked, stepping toward her. Reaver's eyes were like glass and they reflected her. He took one of her hands and leaned forward. "Rosie, if you already know how I feel, then why are you leaving?" he asked.

The wind picked up as Reaver leaned forward and kissed Rosie's lips. Rosie didn't refuse him. Her lips were soft and warm, despite her cold demeanor. The taste of her kiss reminded Reaver of a warm cup of tea on a cold day; refreshing and nurturing. Reaver could hear the wind, the voices of thousands of spirits talking at once, as he kissed Rosie. His eyes were closed, but he could see everything. He could see her visions and he could feel the sadness mixed in them. It all suddenly became joy and that is when Reaver opened his eyes.

Rosie was gone.

**_Late the next afternoon_**

Reaver heard the door close many times that day. Luggage being taken out and servants leaving. He had watched from the top of the grand staircase as his beloved Circus Rejects left his employ. They had gathered their last pay (plus a bonus) and were soon on their way to their new lives. Lives without him in it. Beryl told Reaver he would always be welcome at her vineyard. Reaver only smiled, saying he expects a good deal and good quality when he orders some of her vineyard's wine for his next party.

He waved to them as they left. Gordon, Beryl, and Willa left the manor to the carriage driven by Olaf waiting for them in the front. Reaver lingered for a bit and made his way back to his office. There was much to do but Reaver didn't actually feel like doing any of it. Reaver kept his gave out his office window, trying to see if he could spot the carriage taking his servants away to their new lives. At that moment, the door to his office opened and Barry walked in.

"Well, it is done." said Barry, dusting off his hands. Reaver didn't move from his spot by the window in his office. "The new servants are settling in and my replacement starts first thing tomorrow morning, Sir. I left all the information on your desk. The new recruits will be out in the foyer awaiting your orders."

Reaver only nodded. He was actually uninterested in what Barry was saying. Reaver had a lot on his mind but he tried to ignore it. His life, the events of every little adventure he'd been on in the last three hundred years, and even the mundane occurrence were flashing before his eyes. Barry just stood there, waiting for some kind of reply. Reaver turned around and stared at his former assistant. He didn't know why he was so shocked to see Barry in such casual clothing. Barry didn't have much style outside the uniform jacket. His casual jacket looked like his uniform jacket without the Reaver Industries insignia on the front. Barry cleared his throat, but Reaver still did nothing.

It was a good while before Reaver finally said something. "Hatch, do you think it's foolish of me to want things to go back to the way they were?" Reaver asked.

Barry only shrugged. "I don't get your meaning, Sir."

Reaver chuckles and leaned against his desk. "Hatch, a year and a half ago, my beloved Circus Rejects started working for me. I can't say I was thrilled by the prospect but over time, they became part of what made Lakeview Manor so…well, unique! 'Oh, that's the house with the crazy servants' or 'that Reaver should keep those miscreants under control' were music to my ears. Everyone knew they worked for me and if you work for Reaver, you have to be a step above the rest. They've proven themselves time and time again that they indeed had what it took be work for me. Now, they are all leaving me. You, Miss Sarah, Beryl, Willa, Gordon, and yes even Rosie."

"Rosie is leaving too? She didn't mention anything all day yesterday." Barry asked, genuinely surprised.

Reaver nodded and went back to the window. "She's already gone, Hatch. She decided not to buy a caravan, but she is taking passage on a ship heading toward Aurora. Some type of mystical soul searching, I presume." Reaver touched his lips and then the glass of his window, looking down below. "Hatch, what is it like to be in love with one person? It's been so long I don't remember."

Again, Barry was surprised. "What does that have to do with Rosie leaving?" he asked. Reaver walked over to the little steel-mesh trash bin and picked up a crumbled up wad of papers. He gave them to Barry and promptly went back to the window. Barry unfolded the papers and read them silently. Normally, Barry acted as a legal advisor to Reaver as well, but he had never seen this contract. Something popped in Barry's mind at that moment. "Are you saying all that silent drama between you and Rosie is because of…this?" Barry pointed to the contract as if Reaver were staring at him, though Reaver made no movement.

Rereading everything, Barry could see that this contract has legal down to the last period; just the way Reaver liked it. Reaver had made more horrifying contracts than this one but Barry felt this was something even Reaver couldn't talk his way out of. There was no denying it, no matter how hard Reaver tried. Barry put the contract on the desk and just stared at him.

"You're in love with Rosie, aren't you?" Barry asked, after a long silence.

Again, Reaver said nothing. Barry had learned long ago how to read his boss. Reaver would deny it up and down, but Barry could see that Reaver felt rejected. This was a feeling Reaver was unfamiliar with and he wasn't sure how to process it. Barry knew for a fact that Reaver had been rejected many times, but it was usually on his own terms and through less heart wrenching means (a slap to the face, someone calling for a guard, etc.). It seemed like this was the one time he actually felt affected by

"If I didn't, would I have kept that damn contract?" Reaver asked, though his voice sounded acidic instead of sad. "It was only after she threw away her chance to be 'Mrs. Reaver' that I realized that the only reason I worked up that stupid contract was because I had hoped to hang on to something. For over three hundred years, I've had control. I've been in control, but that night, when I gave her the ultimatum, I realized for once, I didn't control anything, anymore. My business, my home, my servants…" Reaver growled thinking about the next few words. "…my heart…"

Barry had never seen this side of Reaver. In the years Barry had been in his service, he had never seen Reaver get emotional about one person. Barry was amazed, however, at how fast Reaver could bounce back from any disappointment. He watched Reaver walk around the desk and open a drawer. "Ahh, Hatch, I almost forgot. Here…" Reaver gave Barry a white envelope. Barry slid the flap open and picked what looked like a check out. "It's your final pay, along with a bonus. Miss Sarah's is in there, too."

Upon further inspection, Barry found another check with Miss Sarah's name on it. Barry looked up at Reaver and smiled. "Sir, this is…beyond generous!"

Reaver laughed. "Hatch, you've been in my service for years. I think you've more than earned it. Use that money to buy a home for you and Miss Sarah. Start married life off right."

"If you don't mind me saying, Sir…" Barry was still in awe of the checks. "…why not go up to Rosie and 'renegotiate' the contract? She's really not that scary."

Reaver said nothing on the subject, but he looked like he was considering. Barry folded the envelope and placed it in his pocket. They stood there in silence for a good while, not saying anything. Barry was about to turn around and leave when Reaver stopped him. "Hatch," Reaver shouted, walking to the middle of his office. The two men stood there and stared at each other. The same memories were going through each of their minds. From Barry being hired, to being "resurrected", and to now. Reaver extended his gloved hand. "Good job, Barry."

Barry extended his and the two men shook hands, as friends. "It's been an honor, Reaver." The handshake only took five seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

With that, Barry left Reaver's office. Downstairs, where Barry had found the servants waiting for instructions many times, he only saw Miss Sarah. Their belongings were sent ahead and now all that remained was her own little carry-on. The others had left long ago and Miss Sarah felt it made sense that since she was the first of her group to step into the house when they arrived, that she be the last of them to leave.

"Ready, Lovey?" Barry asked, making sure his gloves were on tight.

Both of them looked around the foyer and remembered the day they met. At the time, Barry wouldn't have believed a woman like her would ever see him as more than just Reaver's assistant. He was amazed to see that she saw him as not only a friend, but as a potential husband. Now, they were married and about to leave to start their life together. Barry took one more look around, wondering if they will ever return to this place. Barry took Miss Sarah's hand in his and led her out of Lakeview Manor one last time.

The grand doors closed softly and echoed throughout the house.

"Renegotiate…" Reaver murmured as he house grew quieter. Reaver looked over and saw the contract still on the desk. "Love can't be negotiated." He mumbled. He remembered when Rosie said that to him and it was starting to echo in his mind. "When you know your future, you have a better chance of changing it. Miss Sarah knew all along about her life with Hatch, I assume. Miss Sarah may not be able to see the future but she isn't stupid. A little aloof, but even she knows to turn on a light if the room is too dark."

The room was dark, after all. His servants were gone and his new ones would be starting in the morning. Reaver was considering everything now. He was considering his future. His future seemed quite empty like his house at the moment. Reaver stared out his window and tried not to think about the ships preparing to leave the dock in the morning from Bowerstone Industrial. It was at that moment that Reaver thought about his own private vessel, mooring in docks. Being on that ship always reminded him of his pirating days.

It was also at that moment he remembered something Rosie had told him. Reaver felt this had a deeper meaning than it probably should have had, but it struck a chord nonetheless.

"_You will always be a pirate: you constantly seek treasure without appreciating the fortune you already have…"_

Reaver knew then what he had to do. He grabbed the contract off the desk and left his office.

**_A Few Days Later, At Sea_**

"Miss Rosie, we're about to serve supper in the galley if you're hungry." said one of the crewmen, looking down at Rosie. Rosie looked up from her spot on the ship's deck and nodded softly. The setting sun reflected in her dark eyes and made them look almost orange. Nearly unrecognizable in anything outside her maid uniform, Rosie thought she was supposed to feel good. Taking off the uniform and stuffing it into the bottom of one of her steamer trunks, she tried to think of it as shedding a second skin.

Her dress, a simple front buttoning dark burgundy dress, seemed matronly but at the same time still feminine. She wore it with a sense of unearned pride. Had Rosie truly won? If she did, what was the prize in this silly game? Her freedom? Freedom from what?

The boots she wore were more comfortable than they looked and very fancy, considering the surroundings. Rosie sighed and looked out at the sea again. "How much longer until we reach Aurora?" she asked, not actually sure if the crewman was still there or not.

"We should be there before sunset tomorrow, Ma'am." The crewman answered. Rosie only nodded and stood up. She had booked passage on a simple transport boat. It wasn't a fancy ocean liner, but she had her own cabin and the others making their way to Aurora seemed friendly enough. It didn't matter where she went, actually. Rosie just knew she needed to be far away from Millfields and Aurora was pretty far from Albion proper.

Rosie was still wondering if she made the right decision. Rosie may have been able to tell the future, but she often found it odd that Reaver's was cloudy. She had tried many times to see into it over the course of her employment at Lakeview Manor, but she would only see into the immediate future. Nothing long term or a few years down the line would show up. She assumed this was a side effect of the deal Reaver made with the Shadow Court. Because of them, his future would always be uncertain.

It was this reason, Rosie believed, that gave her a feeling of heartache. She couldn't see a possible future at Lakeview Manor as Reaver's wife (literally speaking). Rosie dusted off her dress and looked around at the other passengers making their way toward the galley. She wasn't paying attention to the radiant conversation going on but found it comforting.

"Didn't this stretch of water used to be teeming with pirates?" asked a lady, closing her parasol.

"Years ago, but the Royal Navy made short work of them." said her companion, taking off his hat to wipe his brow.

"I hear there are occasionally some pirate ships spotted along this route." whispered another woman.

"We needn't worry. The crew is made of mostly retired soldiers. They still have some fight in them." Yet another woman replied.

Rosie looked over at the setting sun one more time and sighed. The dark cloud were coming in, meaning a storm was approaching. It didn't look like a bad one, though. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for but it certainly wasn't dinner. Rosie actually hadn't eaten a complete meal in a few days. She decided to try and finish her dinner tonight. Then, she'd settle into her cabin and read until it was time for bed. Rosie had saved up enough money during her time at Lakeview that she could easily afford a small home near the market of Aurora City. That is what she planned to do. Live a quiet life among the desert dwellers, fine-tune her fortune telling skills, and maybe make a meager living as a healer.

"What in Avo's name is that?!" shouted a woman near the port side of the ship. Rosie looked up as everyone rushed over to see what the woman was pointing at. She walked over and being taller than most in the crowd, could see something coming on the horizon.

"It looks like another ship! The sails are magnificent!" said another woman.

"I recognize that flag!" shouted an old man. "That's a pirate ship!"

Everyone started to panic and run for the cabins as the deck hands prepared for the worst. Rosie didn't move. Her eyes widened as the ship sailed faster and closer to her own. She looked genuinely surprised at this. The sails of the ship bore the insignia of Reaver Industries. On the bow of the ship, a man in red adventurer's clothes with the sea wind blowing his hair about, smiled as their target grew closer. The tattooed beauty mark was a dead giveaway to who this was.

"There!" shouted Reaver to his crew. Shots fired in the air as the crew of Rosie's transport ship held their hands up. They had no weapons that could match the legendary Reaver and knew the safest bet for the passengers would be to surrender. Rosie stepped forward and her eyes widened. "There, the greatest treasure of them all!" Reaver shouted as his ship slowed down so he could put a plank down. He didn't leave his ship, though.

"How did you find my ship so fast?" Rosie asked, as the roar of the wind and waves picked up.

"Not important!" Reaver shouted, as he reached into his inner breast pocket and pulled out the contract. "I think we need to renegotiate our contract. Here are my terms…"

Reaver took out his Dragonstomper .48 and held it flat to his heart, as if saluting. "My terms are this: you marry me, come back to Lakeview Manor as my wife, live in my house, shout orders at my servants, and have your every desire met; but in return, you let me introduce you as my wife at galas, hold your hand as we walk, kiss your cheek when you feel sad, and at the end of each day you sit with me in my study so we can meditate on the day together before we adjourn to bed. My bed. Where I tell you how lucky I am that you are mine."

Everyone was staring at Rosie now. Reaver just stared down at Rosie. She didn't answer. She turned away from him. "Come now, Rosie; don't tell me I wasted my time and money searching the waters and taking out three other transport ships before finding yours. Don't let those innocent souls' deaths be in vain." Reaver retracted his hand. He sighed inwardly and glared down at her. "What do you want me to say, Rosie? What can I say that will convince you that I…actually have these feelings for you? Please don't make me say it! Do you know how bad it will look if people know the great and powerful Reaver fell for one of his maids and is willing to give up at least a third of his lifestyle for her? I do have a reputation to up hold. Won't you think about my image? I mean, how selfish can one person be?"

"At least a third? You must be in love." said one of Reaver's crewman. Reaver turned and shot the man in the chest. He turned back around as if nothing happened.

"My terms…" Rosie mumbled.

"Yes, your terms. What are you terms?!" Reaver shouted, having very little patience at this moment.

"Say it." Rosie said, softly.

"Say what?" Reaver asked.

"You know what it is. Say it once. That's all you have to do. I'll marry you and come back to Lakeview Manor. All you have to do is say it and mean it. Say. It. Once." Rosie turned away from Reaver.

To Reaver, she might as well have asked him to rip out his liver with his bare hands without bleeding on the desk of the ship. Reaver mumbled what sounded like the words, but weren't the words. The words he was searching for were foreign to him, as if she asked him to suddenly start speaking a different language. He was, of course, a talented linguist. But in his mastery of all the languages he'd learned up to that point, nothing was more foreign then those three words.

"Why do you have to make this so difficult?!" Reaver shouted. "I shouldn't have to put up with this when I can have any woman I want! I shouldn't have to say three stupid little words to make a woman mine. In the past, all I had to do was smile and a woman was mine! Hell, most _men_ were mine at that point. But why, in this entire world, would I have to fall in love with the most stubborn woman in Albion?! I won't be defeated like this! I refuse to bow down to a woman, any woman! Especially someone like you!"

Reaver pointed his gun in Rosie's direction. She just stood there. His gun, an extension of his power, was fixed at the exact middle of the back of Rosie's head. He had reached his breaking point. She was either going to leave with him on his boat back to Bowerstone or end up floating in the water. At this point, he didn't care which happened. Reaver was so mad, he was almost foaming at the mouth. "Did you actually think anyone could ever really love you…?" Reaver cocked his gun but Rosie didn't flinch.

Rosie did start to smile at that point. "You went through all this just for me?" she asked softly, still not facing him. "You went through all this heartache, all this expense and trouble, just for me?"

Lowering his gun, Reaver sighed. "Yes, I did, damn it all. Do you know why?" Reaver asked as Rosie shook her head. "I was hoping you knew because neither do I." Reaver tightened his grip on the contract, almost forgetting he had it in his other hand. Reaver gulped and looked at the contract. "Wait a moment…I know why…"

He growled at it and threw it into the air. With some fancy hand movements and proper timing, he shot the contract directly in the middle. The paper burst into confetti and fell like confetti. Rosie's eyes formed happy tears as Reaver stretched his hand out to hers. "…because I love you, Rosie. Not because I wanted everything back to the way it was. Because I love you." The paper confetti down on the plank between the boats, some blowing in the wind. "Have we come to terms?"

Rosie felt a tear go down her cheek as she quivered a smile. For the first time in as long as he's known her, Reaver wasn't frightened by her smile. "You did me one better. You said it twice." Rosie chuckled as she turned around. She looked up at him with happy tears as the last of the paper fell around her. "Yes!" she shouted as she let her tears flow. "Yes, I agree to those terms!"

Like a true swashbuckler, Reaver grabbed up Rosie and kissed her deeply as his men ran toward the transport ship's cabins to gather her things. Reaver picked Rosie up, wedding style, and took her onto his ship, where by "coincidence" a chaplain was waiting. As the impromptu wedding began, Reaver's ship shoved off.

Back toward Bowerstone Harbor. Back toward Millfields. Back toward home.

* * *

><p><strong>Hi, hi, everyone!<strong>

**I'm not dead! Just exhausted and happy to be back. This isn't the last chapter. Next chapter is an epilogue where we see how everyone is doing.**

**I recently got a new computer after my laptop died on me. The stupid thing had two video cards, TWO, and both crapped out. The stupid thing was barely two years old. And, as things tend to work out for your beloved Luna Peachie, the warranty expired in January. **

**Luckily, I managed a trade with a friend. I gave him my overpriced paperweight and he'll fix it up to sell on eBay and he gave me a computer he had been working on. It works just as well, if not better than my laptop. I finally feel like a true member of the PC gaming master race. I plan to get a more powerful video card in the future and a better monitor as I'm using my brother's spare, but all in due time, I suppose. It can plan Skyrim without blowing up so that's a good sign.**

**I'm honored that this chapter is the first I release on my new computer. My first fan fiction…hmm…**

**So, here's the fun part! You review this chapter, tell me how I did, and I get the last chapter out as soon as humanly possible. How does that sound? With my new compy, getting updates out should be much faster and more enjoyable. And not to mention more frequent. We all like that, right?**

**Also, don't forget to visit me on Tumblr! The link is in my profile page. Or just look up "lunapeachielovesyou" on Tumblr. **

**As always, my loves: Read, review, and be merry!**

**Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.**


End file.
